


Saving Hope

by EmilyH92



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyH92/pseuds/EmilyH92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is hurt whilst on a mission looking for an escaped Emil Blonsky. He's trying to re-create the serum used to create Steve's abilities. It causes a temporary reaction, slowing his healing to that of a regular person. He slips into a coma and has an outer body experience, leaving him to watch over his friends, his doctor and those who work and stay in the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1:

It seemed like the day was on her side as Dr Bethany Alexander stepped into the ER of the New York-Presbyterian Hospital and saw that only eight of the twenty-five beds were occupied. It wasn’t that she didn’t love being in The Pit, she did, it’s where all the action was, where the most spectacular and out-of-nowhere-extraordinary cases come in, like the guy last week who had a rebar sticking out of his chest because he fell off a ladder on a construction site, now that was a fun case. Today, however, she just was not in the mood, she didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast, other than the luke-warm cup of coffee she managed to steal off of one of the nurses and a bite of a graham cracker from the doctor’s lounge. This added with the fact that she got a surprise wake-up call from her mother announcing that her latest gold-digging efforts was amounting in husband number four was the cherry on top of an already trying morning. 

She wandered over to the nurses’ station in the centre of the ER, sipping her coffee that by this time had already gone cold and tasted a little like Styrofoam. Nurse Cathy was sat behind the desk, organizing discharge papers and entering patients’ details into the computer, trying to fill the time between the next admissions. She looked oddly serine from the usual chaos of the ER, ‘calm before the storm’, thought Beth. 

“Hey, what are you doing? That doesn’t need to be done until the end of the shift?” Beth stated, looking at the pile of files already filling up the desk in front of her friend. 

“I know, I’m just not used to not having much to do, so I thought I’d grab a head start, better to do something than nothing I guess” Replied the other woman, placing a strand of strawberry-blonde hair back behind her ear “Just waiting for the call”. 

“The call? It seems pretty quiet today, doesn’t look like anyone’s going to call out at the moment” jested Dr Alexander, looking around the sparse ER, eyes casting over the perfectly set up observation divides and beds, not a drop of blood in sight. 

“Oh, no…no, no, no. You do not; you never, ever, say that in the ER. Ever! You jinxed it, whatever comes I next, that’s on you my friend!” Cathy’s look of disapproval was pronounced by the swing of her pony tail as she shook her head at the doctor standing in front of her. 

“What’s on who?” said a voice from behind. Beth turned to see the handsome face of Dr Craig O’Reilly, head of the Trauma Unit at NYP. He had a hard-look, probably from all of those years serving with the Army as a medic, and salt and pepper hair, which only made him more appealing, especially to the nurses who saw him as a real-life Dr Doug Ross from the TV show ‘ER’. 

“Oh, Doctor O’Reilly, before the shit hits the fan, I thought you’d like to know whose fault it’s going to be when we’re flooded with patients momentarily.” Nurse Cathy said, slyly grinning at Beth, “She jinxed us.” 

“No!” Doctor O’Reilly said in mock horror, bringing his clipboard to his chest as if it was a hand over his heart, “Doctor Alexander, you should know better than that! You can’t say the ‘Q’ word in the pit!” 

Beth laughed at her superior’s superstition; “Oh, come on, it’s not as if it really does anything, like any second we’re going to be flooded with trauma’s or something, that’s so unlikely-“ 

At that very moment the phone rang, and it wasn’t the regular one either. It was the red one. The red phone was ringing. That only meant one thing: massive trauma. Cathy had picked up the phone, her face suddenly very serious, nodding and making agreeing sounds in all the right places. She put the receiver down on the latch, looks up and presses the big black button on the wall next to the desk; an alarm sounds and the lights flash, she starts ordering nurses to take patients who need immediate medical assistance upstairs to a different wing and all other patients to transfer to other hospitals in the area. She turns to the two doctors, who were still stood next to the desk in confusion and tells them; 

“We have a high priority and profile case; I was ordered to clear the floor and let only the senior residents and selected staff in.” 

“What else? Did they describe the patient’s symptoms?” Asked O’Reilly, his face, searching. 

“Not much else, just that it was an emergency if a very sensitive nature and they needed the floor and all qualified personnel, I don’t think it was an EMT on the line either” Said Cathy, her eyes looking towards the entrance to the ER. 

The next few minutes pass in a blur of confusion and panic, the assembled senior and junior residents standing in their yellow over-covers and surgical gloves in the brisk February air. In front of them stands Chief of Surgery Olivia Stanton, looking, as ever, well put together, if not a little bristled, the rush of the situation it seemed couldn’t even be avoided by their strong and fearless leader. 

“Right, everyone” she stated loudly over the sound of instrument carts and hospital beds being moved around hurriedly behind them, “I know about as much as you do at this point. All I know is that we have a high profile and priority patient coming into our ER who is about 2 minutes out. I do not know the name, status or condition of our patient, but this has come from the very top. I want to see your finest work people, if there’s a problem, see me directly. Doctor O’Reilly will be taking point on this one, follow his lead and let’s show whoever these people are just why NYP is the best hospital in this city” With that Stanton places herself at the front of the crowd of doctors, and everything goes silent, waiting for the roar of sirens in the early morning dimness. 

It was as if the whole hospital was holding its breath and let it out again as suddenly the sirens cold be heard blaring down the street and the squeal of tires on the road as the ambulance came to a halt in front of the ER doorway. Suddenly the back doors of the EMT truck were pushed open and a group of people, not only the paramedics jumped out, hovering over the still form of who could only be assumed to be their patient. 

One of the EMT’s started reeling off facts; “White male, approximately 30 years of age, multiple lacerations to the chest and abdomen, subdural bleeding, cracked or possibly broken ribs and a head injury. He’s unresponsive. We had to bring him back twice on the way”. 

They managed to push past the two worried faces that came with their patent in the ambulance, getting him off the gurney and on to a bed. At face value, the guy looked fine, a little beaten up, but fine. He had a large gash to his right side that looked dark and sticky, definitely infected, along with dark patches of bruising all over his torso. His hands looked pretty knocked up too, gashes and scratches covered his knuckles and he had some deep lacerations to his forearms. His head injury was the main concern though. That was the kicker. The man looked peaceful, as if he were simply sleeping off a really bad fight, his olive skin shining under the surgical lights, and his light brown hair perfectly placed other than the matted clump where he obviously hit his head. Hard. 

After inserting an IV and saline drip and taking his vitals, Beth suddenly started listening to the worried voices behind her, one of them sounding rather familiar. She turned around, and through all the commotion from nurses and doctors running around ordering medication, X-Rays and scans, was stopped dead in her tracks by the visage of non-other than…Tony Stark. Tony. Freaking. Stark. AKA Iron Man. Iron Man was stood in her ER, blood covering his probably million dollar suit, worry etched over his face. He turned to an equally distressed looking person, however, not quite as dishevelled as he, wearing a beautiful emerald green evening dress, her red hair still perfectly in place – Pepper Potts. 

‘Oh my god! I have Tony Stark and Pepper Potts standing in my ER!’ thought Beth, looking back at the injured man on the table, suddenly realising that she should really be concerning herself with him rather than the company he was keeping. At this point Doctor O’Reilly grabbed her elbow, dragging her over to the couple who were deep in conversation. Glancing an obviously panicked look at the Trauma surgeon, he gave a supportive nod and parked them in front of the most famous power couple in the world.   
“Mr Stark, Miss Potts, my name is Doctor O’Reilly, I’m head of the Trauma Unit here at NYP, and this here is Doctor Alexander, Senior Resident. I understand this must be a trying time for you right now, but we need to ask you a few questions about our patient, his medical files are no help, for some reason most of it is redacted, even his name. I understand that what we’re dealing with here may be stepping on sensitive grounds, but in order to be able to treat him to the best of our ability we need to know as much as we can. What exactly happened to him?”

“Well…” started Mr Stark, “I can’t tell you exactly what happened to him, it’s kind of a long story, but the jist of it is he poked the bear and the bear got angry and then the bear punched him through a wall.” He finished, nodding his head as if everything he said had just made perfect sense. 

The doctors looked at each other with a look of great confusion, when Pepper finally broke the awkward silence saying; 

“He got into a situation he couldn’t handle by himself and was beaten pretty badly. He works for…well, let’s just say the Army, who loans him out for specialist Government work. He’s the best at what he does, but all you need to know is that the entire time we’ve known him; he’s never been injured like this. He usually just gets up, walks it off, but this time…he didn’t get up. There’s going to be a lot of things we can’t tell you, not because we don’t want to but because we can’t and you’ll need to work around that. Can you do that?” The redhead had tears in her eyes, her voice broken but hopeful as she stared at the two doctors in front of her. 

“We’ll do our best Miss Potts” said O’Reilly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Now, one last question, what’s your friend’s name?” 

Tony Stark, who had obviously been deep in thought, staring over at the bed in which his friend lay still, getting even more tubes and wires placed on him, looked up, his face, for the first time Beth had seen it, hard and serious said: 

“Steve. Stephen. His name is Captain Stephen Rogers.” 

Not that she knew it, but this was the first, and certainly not the last time Doctor Bethany Alexander would meet Captain America.


	2. Chapter 2:

Steve’s POV: 

Bright light, that was the first thing he saw, a white light that made his head hurt. Things fuzzily started to come into focus, there were people standing all around him, putting things on him, sticking him with needles, he could feel it, but wasn’t in pain, he didn’t understand. 

‘Ah, morphine…’ he thinks, looking up to his left seeing a blurry outline of a clear liquid hanging from a metal rail, ‘I must be in the hospital…how?...when did I get here?’

He then hears someone calling his name, the voice is familiar but he can’t remember who it is, it sounds like someone from his past…someone from another life… ‘Howard? No…not Howard. His…son. Tony! Its Tony…he sounds upset. Why is Tony upset? I don’t understand…’ 

Suddenly there’s another voice, it’s calmer, closer, he turns his head to see a figure standing over him, the figure is blurry, but he can tell it’s a woman, wearing blue, and she had dark hair. He tries to focus, squinting past the bright light, and the tiredness that is overcoming him, trying to tug him back to the warm, dark place he’s just awoken from. He squints, lets his eyes focus and then, suddenly, he sees her. ‘An Angel’. 

“Am I in heaven?” He rasps. Wait…he didn’t mean to say that. Why did he say that? 

The Angel smiled. “No Captain Rogers, you’re in the hospital, you’re injured, but we’re going to take the best possible care of you alright?” She spoke. Her voice sounded like music. 

‘No, why is she turning away?’

The Angel was then replaced with possibly the least Angelic face he could imagine – Tony. 

“Steve!...Steve, hey there bud, you gave us a bit of a scare there! Look, just because you don’t wanna go to a charity gala doesn’t mean you have to keel over on us alright? Could have just said-“ 

“Tony! It’s alright Steve, you’re okay now, and the doctors are going to take really good care of you. Just focus on getting better okay?” Interrupted Pepper, stroking his arm soothingly. 

Pepper looked tired. Pepper hardly ever looked tired, even when she’s running after Tony all day, and Tony, he was putting on a brave face, but Steve could tell he was worried and he had blood all over his suit. 

‘My blood. That’s all my blood?’ 

He wanted to apologise to his friends, for making them worry, for ruining Tony’s suit, for going in unprepared, for not listening to Bruce. But before he could say any of that, he felt that he was losing the battle with the warm darkness, he felt it creeping slowly up him until it reached his eyes, seeping in and drawing out the light. 

“Steve! Steve…What’s happening, do something!” He heard Tony shout. 

‘Why is he shouting?…I just need to sleep’

“Captain Rogers, come on, stay with me! Push Epinephrine now! Come on, stay with me Captain Rogers!” 

‘The Angel wants me to stay…but I can’t, I’m so tired’

That was the last thing Steve thought before slipping into oblivion, having no feeling whatsoever of almost 1000 volts coursing through his body and no recollection of the doctors and nurses above him having to restart his heart a further two times. He especially doesn’t remember hearing the great Tony Stark, Iron Man, crying over the near death of Captain America.


	3. Chapter 3:

Beth’s POV:

Doctor Bethany Alexander watched as the hot, black liquid miserably drizzled out of the staff room coffee machine and into the flaky Styrofoam cup, already breaking apart and sending tiny white flakes of plastic on to her sky blue scrubs. However, after nine hours on shift, she really didn’t care that much. No, what she did care about is the fact that she had the Men in Black following her on her much needed break because apparently the doctor’s lounge was ‘beyond the containment perimeter’ for her patient. Looking away from the drably dressed duo, she reminded herself of the mantra she’d had going in her head the past five hours since he coded; 

‘He’s stable, he’s stable, he’s stable’. 

Beth didn’t think she’d ever worked so hard on a patient. Captain Stephen Rogers was one lucky guy. He lost almost 60% of his blood from deep lacerations that were now sceptic as he’d clearly tried to stich them up himself, had a major head wound and severe internal bleeding from what looked like a beating due to the fist shaped bruises forming on his abdomen. 

‘Whatever this guy does for a living, I hope it’s worth it.’ She thought, picturing the last time she’d seen him before he was wheeled off for surgery. There were more people around him now than before, and unlike Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, Beth had no idea who these people were, she guessed colleges as they all looked well-built and muscular, save a nervous looking man in a suit, with mid-length dark hair and glasses. They all looked on with concern and another emotion that she couldn’t put a handle on…anger perhaps? Whatever it was, she got the feeling that these people knew more about what happened to Captain Rogers than the staff did. There was another look that they all shared, hovering around him, everyone touching just a little bit of him. They looked…lost. Like they were waiting for him to wake up and tell them what to do. She’s felt the same after she made Senior Resident, for the first time she was looked to for answers; she had interns to teach and patients to look after all by herself, she couldn’t depend on her superiors for answers anymore…they looked like they needed an answer, one that she just couldn’t give them. 

Beth sighed, turning back to the doorway to find the dark suited men watching her. She nodded and they lead her out of the hallway and back through the heavily guarded doors of the ICU where they were waiting for Captain Rogers to get out of surgery and get him into recovery. After that, it was out of her hands. Apparently there was some specialist team that either Stark or whoever the black-suits worked for had called in, she assumed the Government. 

‘Well, Miss Potts did say he worked for the Army…’ She thought nervously, sideways glancing at the two men flanking her on either side, looking as if they were going to tackle her to the ground at any moment. She walked into the ICU hallway, downing the rest of her espresso and entering room 2403 – NYP’s version of the Presidential Suite. There was a mixture of her staff and the other medical team, trading notes and charts on Captain Rogers’ case, her staff looking on with confusion and trepidation whilst the others had a look of cool knowing, a look that Beth could only describe as cold. She was approached by one of the doctors, wearing a pristine lab coat over a starch white shirt, pressed trousers and silk tie, his expensive looking shoes glinting in the overhead lighting. He plastered on a smile as he walked closer to Beth, extending a perfectly manicured hand.   
“Hello, I’m Doctor Beckford, I will be taking over Captain Rogers’ treatment from here on out, I just wanted to go over your care of him starting from the moment he was brought in.” He said in a falsely happy tone, adding an extra smile to the end of his statement as if to assure his credence. 

“Well…I’m only a Resident, I think the person you should be talking to is Doctor O’Reilly, and he was on point for Captain Rogers’ care and has more seniority than myself.” Beth said, confused to why they would be calling her in rather than her boss. 

“We already have Doctor Alexander, but we have gathered from other reports you’ve spent the most face time with the patient than other doctors, according to his charts you even resuscitated him.” Beckford said, glancing down at a very high tech looking tablet, flicking his finger across the screen showing Captain Roger’s stats.   
“Twice, actually, all in all he’s coded four times in the last 10 hours; he’s a bit of medical miracle!” Beth replied, trying to keep the atmosphere light, he did after all survive V-Fib four times, at least that was something to celebrate. 

At that moment Doctor Beckford looked at Beth for a long while as if she’s said something she shouldn’t had, his eyes tracing over he face for something that she didn’t understand and when he was apparently trough with this, simply said; “Yes, Quite” and continued to question her about treating the Captain. 

After the other doctor had left her standing in the middle of room 2403, she felt a hand on her shoulder that made her jump slightly. Turning quickly, she sees a face she’d been longing to see all shift; Jason Levi, her best friend/room-mate/over-all-life-fixer. We was looking just about as tired as she felt, his green nurses scrubs creased from carrying trays of instruments and supplies to the floor that had been bought out especially for the private care of Captain Rogers. 

“Oh, babe, don’t worry they’ve got us all like that! I’ve been looking over my shoulder since they wheeled the guy in here, I keep on having the urge to confess something I haven’t done, either that or burst into spontaneous tears – that’s normal right?” Hearing Jason’s sarcastic attitude lifted Beth’s sullen mood slightly, giving him a small smile.   
“With this patient, I don’t even remember what normal is anymore! I mean, he comes in and we have to evacuate the entire ER, he’s beaten to a pulp with injuries he’d obviously tried to treat himself, codes twice on the way here and when he arrives as Tony freaking Stark and Pepper Potts crying by his bedside and then the Men in Black invade the hospital keeping us in the dark about everything. Did you see the guy’s file? It was almost totally redacted!” Beth rants, feeling a little of the tension from the past few hours draining out of her. 

“Ooh, maybe he’s a spy!” Conspired Jason, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“At this point you could say he was Superman and I would believe you, y’know those guys actually followed me into the bathroom?” 

“Aw, jealous, a couple of these guys are hot, I wouldn’t mind them following me into the bathroom if you know what I mean” Jason added with a wink, only making Beth’s smile grow wider. 

“Eww! Jase you’re so gross, and inappropriate…but yes, I know what you mean.” Suddenly her pager went off, along with everyone else in the room. “Well, it looks like this is nearly all over for us, I don’t think we’ll need you around for this Jase, the patient’s coming into recovery now, I’ll see you at home ok?”

The nurse nodded, giving her one last squeeze on the shoulder before making his way out through the barricade of dark suited agents lining the doorway. Moments later, there was a flurry of movement as Captain Rogers was brought into the ICU by the surgeons and handed off to the mystery doctors. O’Reilly appeared from the OR hallway, taking off his scrub cap and making his way over to Beth, chart in hand. 

“The surgery was a success, we managed to stop him from haemorrhaging, but it took longer than expected due to all the internal damage. Had Neuro go in and relieve some pressure from the swelling of the cranial bleed, but other than that no lasting damage. The only problem is, with all this stress on his body, he slipped into a coma as we were closing him up, the only thing we can think of is the body is temporarily shutting down to let itself recover. Poor kid. He’s got a way to go yet. I’ve got to get cleaned up and sigh off on some things, will you be okay to talk to his family?” 

Beth nodded, taking the chart and giving it a once over before making her way out into the ICU waiting area that had also been cleared, save the gathering of people waiting to hear about Captain Rogers’ condition, and the smartly suited people placed either side of all exits. She had talked to patients families all the time, it never gets any easier, and for some reason, this one seemed harder than ever before. 

“Hello, my name is Doctor Alexander, I was part of his emergency on-call trauma team. I am pleased to tell you that Captain Rogers-

“-Steve, his name is Steve” Interrupts Mr Stark. 

“-Steve…sorry, Steve’s surgery was a success. The surgeons managed to stop the internal bleeding and stitch up the deep lacerations to his upper body. We also had a neurosurgeon go in and relive some pressure that had built up around Steve’s spinal cord, due to the blow to his head, which had now been normalised. However, there was one complication. When they were closing him up and prepping him for recovery, he slipped into what is known as Toxic-metabolic encephalopathy, which is a common reaction to stress and pain on the body. 

“-I’m sorry what, he in a what?” Interrupted another man, he was stocky, like a wrestler with a string jaw line and constant frown.   
“It’s a type of coma…I know that that seems like something worse to happen to someone who has already gone through a lot, but I can assure you this is not uncommon, especially in patients who have suffered as much physical trauma as Steve has. It’s basically his body taking a power nap, re-energizing after the toll of the injury, resuscitation and the surgery. He’s been under a lot of stress and needs to rest now. I’m sure that the new medical team are going to take excellent care of him. If there’s anything I can do for either you, or Captain Roger’s, please let me know.”

“Thank-you doctor, we will” said Pepper, her eyes tired and filled with tears. 

Beth gave the group a small, sympathetic smile before heading back to the ER to hand in her paperwork and then head home. The very thought of seeing her apartment again, let alone her bed was comforting, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be doing something more for Captain Rogers, even though, medically, they’d done everything they possibly could for him. 

After saying goodnight to Cathy, who repeated several times that she was going to quit her job after the shift they’d just had, Beth headed out the ER doors that brought in so much drama that day, passing in between, two smartly dressed men in sunglasses who probably knew more about the mysterious Captain Stephen Rogers than she did.


	4. Chapter 4:

Steve’s POV: 

Steve had always been a spiritual guy. He’d gone to church every Sunday with his mother until she died and then was raised by Nuns in a home until he was eighteen. He thought he had some kind of understanding of what happened after you die…he thought. That was until he found himself wandering the hallways of a hospital he’d never been too before, finding himself rudely ignored by everyone around him. He knew times and customs had changed, and New Yorker’s had always been a resilient bunch, but this was just plain ridiculous! 

He remembered waking up in a hospital bed, and he made an ass out of himself in front of that lady-doctor, as usual, but he couldn’t remember how he got out here…maybe he was more hurt than he realised? Maybe he had some kind of head wound from the fight that left him with memory loss?  
‘Surely if I’m still here, than Tony and Pepper are? They wouldn’t just leave me here…’

Steve wondered around the labyrinth of hallways of the hospital, reading the direction signs on the wall as he went. He never remember hospitals to be so big and crowded, the last time he was in a public hospital was when he was conscripted, the first time, other than that it was military bases, secret labs, S.H.I.E.L.D facilities and then finally the Medical Wing Tony had installed in Stark – no, ‘Avengers Tower;, as he now liked to call it, after his unfortunate side effects of his worm hole experience and Pepper’s subsequent…heat problem, whatever that really was. The hallways were bustling with activity, nurses and doctors exchanging charts, patients sat in uncomfortable looking chairs waiting to be seen, people walking in and out of observation rooms, the place was crowded. He was sure he’s walked around the same block of departments several times now and was getting more and more frustrated when nobody would tell him which way it was to the ER…that’s the last place he remembered being, the last place he remembered seeing Tony and Pepper.  
‘Oncology…Dermatology…Haematology…Neurology…’

Steve didn’t have the faintest clue what half of these departments were, but just knew that they weren’t where he was supposed to go. Walking around a further couple of times, he knocked into an elderly looking man in a dark grey suit and tweed over-coat. 

‘I’m so sorry! Really sir, sorry, I should have been paying more attention’ he stammers, holding the man upright by his shoulders and placing a glance to the nearest wall sign.  
“Oh, don’t worry about it son” the older man said with a smile in his voice, “you’re lookin’ a little lost, need help finding your way? I know this place like the back of my hand!”  
‘Finally, someone helpful!’ Steve thought, “Yeah, actually, I think I’m having some kind of reaction, or memory loss, I can’t seem to remember where I’m meant to be…” he looks around for any sign of Tony, Pepper, anyone really who could be of help to him. 

“Son, if I were you I’d look in the ICU, a strapping guy like yourself isn’t going to be found anywhere else!” said the old man with a smile, swinging a mock punch to one of Steve’s biceps, making him blush slightly. “It’s one floor up, through two sets of double doors. I hope you find what you’re looking for son.” 

Steve turns towards the stairwell the man had just pointed at, “Thanks, so much I…” 

Turning back around the older man is nowhere to be seen, as if he just vanished into thin air. 

‘I’m sure he just had an appointment…somewhere…” Steve thought, a strange feeling creeping up his shoulders. 

Making his way up to the next floor, the feeling creeping over him settles all over him, as if he was being dragged somewhere he didn’t really want to go. He realises he must be in the right place, as now S.H.E.I.L.D agents flank each door of the hallway, looking straight ahead as he walks by, a small smile playing on his lips at the seriousness of the agents.  
‘Man, Coulson really drums in into them…’ a feeling of relief filling him at the thought of seeing his friends again, getting sorted, and heading home. He then sees a familiar figure through the glass, Clint Barton, leaning against the doorway of a room half way along the hallway, sipping a cup of coffee and frowning, as usual. As he walks closer, he sees Natasha come out and place a hand on his shoulder, taking the cup from his hand and taking a drag, her face impassive as she hand it back to him, however, the look in her eyes says something different, she looks worried, on edge. Suddenly Steve feels guilty about just walking off, leaving his friends back at his room; they were probably trying to find him, after all, it wasn’t normal, the fact he wasn’t healing last night, they probably thought something was really wrong. 

Stepping through the second set of double doors and into the hallway, he expected the two spies to turn at the sound of his entrance, expecting Clint to say something mildly sarcastic about his mental capacities because he’s an ‘old man’ and a chilling look of reprise from Natasha, but nothing happened, the pair continued to talk in hushed voices, not looking up even when he was directly in front of them…something was wrong. It was as if they couldn’t even see him. He tried placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder to catch her attention, but he couldn’t do it, it was as if he were a magnet trying to match two positives, each times he pushed harder against it, the harder it repelled him. 

‘I must be hallucinating or something, maybe it’s a dream?’ Steve thought, stepping into the shaft of sacrificial light emanating from the door way, he could hear more hushed voices and the incessant blinking of monitors. As he faced the room and stepped past the thresh-hold, he was immediately frozen. He could see Tony and Pepper sitting directly in front of him, holding hands and quietly talking, Pepper’s head on Tony’s shoulder, Tony gently stroking her hair as he spoke. Next he could see Thor and Darcy, leaning in the corner looking pensive, Jane and Bruce huddled next to each other around a chart, pointing at markings, Jane’s eyes wild and bright, Bruce taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, a telling sign he was reaching his limit. Then there was Coulson, looking tired, still suited up, but with his jacket thrown half-hazardly over the back of the chair, the sleeves of his white cotton shirt rolled up and tie loosened – the most relaxed and simultaneously stressed he’s ever seen him. Lastly, Steve saw a figure lying in a hospital bed in the centre of the room. He looked pale and sickly, dark rings under his closed eyes, hair matted and dark with sweat. He had needles and wires coming out of nearly every space of showing skin, angry red blotches of scarring staining his olive skin. What wasn’t a bruise or scrape was covered in bandages, already showing shadows of pooling blood underneath them. He then realised why the figure looked so familiar: 

‘It’s…Me.’

“Oh my God.” Proclaimed Steve, the only words he could form at the sight of himself, laying there, broken. 

“I can’t be dead, my heart’s still beating, I can hear it on the monitor…then why am I like this? This can’t be happening?’

Steve walked around the room, trying to get close to any of the people he called family, but like before with Clint and Natasha, was immediately rebuffed. He tried shouting, screaming, waving his arms around like a mad man, but nothing happened. He was stuck. Stuck out of his own body where nobody could see nor hear him. He was alone. 

“This can’t be happening” Steve stated again in denial. 

“Oh it’s happening alright son, sorry to tell you!” said a familiar voice. 

Steve turned, seeing the elderly man he’d ran into before. He was leaning against the door frame opposite Clint, wearing a small, sad smile. 

“Am I…dead?” asked Steve, looking at the man with reproach. 

“No! no, you m’boy are in a coma, very strange though usually you guys stay in your bodies, I guess it was when you died those couple of times it sent you out here…” He said, eyes wandering over to Steve’s immobile body. 

“I died! But you just said-“

“I know what I said, there’s a difference to dying and being dead y’know! You were resuscitated, four times, I guess you’re body isn’t strong enough to have you inside at the moment.” The older man said, he voice raised and stern, reminding Steve of his old English professor from his school-boy days. 

“What do you mean, not strong enough to have me in it? How, why am I here?” He asked, searching. 

“Well, from what I’ve gathered of my time here, sometimes the body can’t cope with the other part of it, some call it the soul, some the subconscious, some the mind, being stuck in there and telling it what to do all the time so it sort of…expels it for a time, until it’s strong enough to let it back in. And as for you clear existential question, I don’t know, who do I look like, Buddha? I don’t know! Maybe you should talk to a professional? Ah, speaking of…” 

Just on cue, Dr Bethany Alexander walks through the doors of room 2304, chart in hand and is greeted with a room full of very worried, and angry looking people. She nods a small smile at all of them, and replaces the chart in the hands of Dr Banner with her one. 

“I thought you’d like to be kept up to date; I’m just delivering Captain Roger’s latest chart and a new morphine drip to keep him comfortable.” Her voice is calming and familiar to Steve, she moves to past him and starts fixing the morphine onto the rail on the left hand side of Steve’s bed. Steve then moves to stand behind Coulson, looking at Dr Alexander with curiosity, he feels like he knows her, like they’re somehow connected and yet he can’t remember ever meeting her. She has her dark hair tied up in a loose knot at the back of her head letting sift wisps drift around her heart shaped face. Her complexion is clear and fair, the hint of a blush at her cheeks. She’s wearing a lab coat with her name in dark blue stitching above the right hand breast pocket over sky blue hospital scrubs. She’s gentle when she lifts Steve’s arm to take out his IV and replace it with a new one, carefully sticking a small band-aid over the track and running over it with her thumb. She places a small hand on his forehead, checking his temperature and wiping away some strands of hair stuck to his skin. She gives one final look at him and then turns to the room, his visitors all watching her, both in curiosity and suspicion, they just functioned that way. 

‘It’s the Angel…’ Steve thinks

“Just to let you know that this will be my last time treating Captain Rogers-“Dr Alexander started.

“-Steve” Tony interrupted. Again. 

“-Steve, my apologies. I Have spoken to Dr Beckford who from here on out will be handling Steve’s case and he assured me that under his team’s supervision he’s going to get the best care possible. Now if there’s anything you need, any questions that you’d like to ask me now would be the time, not that Dr Beckford wouldn’t be able to answer them, but out of the doctor’s on the Trauma team, I probably spent the most time with him.” Beth finishes, nervously looking around the room at the sombre faces of her patient’s visitors.  
“Yeah, um…how long do these comas usually last? I mean, Steve’s a pretty healthy guy, so, it won’t last that long…right?” asked Darcy, twirling a strand of chocolate brown hair around her finger, looking over at Steve’s near motionless body. 

“Well, comas are pretty mysterious things; the human mind is too actually, it’s really the only uncharted territory medically speaking. We won’t know for a few days whether the coma was a reaction to his head injury or the general stress on Steve’s body due to the injuries. But you’re right, he’s young, he’s healthy and I’m pretty certain that he’ll make a full recovery when he’s good and ready.” She finishes with a warming smile. 

“Good and ready?” Tony repeats loudly

‘Oh, here we go’ thinks Steve rolling his eyes at his friend

“Good and ready? Isn’t there some way to wake him up now? A scan or a test you can run to see why he won’t wake up?” 

“Mr Stark, I know it’s frustrating, but the fact of the matter is you can’t rush things like this. Steve is not running on my schedule, or Dr Beckford’s should I say, we’re running on his. Steve’s body has shut down as a result of him coming under attack; it’s a natural and basic form of self-preservation. If we try and push it, the farther away he might be to actually waking up. It’s very early days yet, we can’t run any scans until 12 hours after the surgery, to give him time to settle. You should know more then. If that’s all I’ll leave you guys too it, the wing is all yours until Steve is able to be moved to your private facility. I wish you all the best.” 

There were a few quiet murmurs of thanks as Dr Alexander left the room, turning one last time to look at Steve. As she walked away, Steve felt a pang of loss, on he didn’t really understand, an ache that left him a little hollow. His hand rubbed at his chest, the older man noticed. 

“Feeling something?” he questioned, a sly smile on his face. 

“Yeah…it’s like…I don’t know…like-“ 

“Like you’ve lost something and you don’t know where you put it?” He finished. “I thought this might have happened.” 

“What? What’s happened?” Steve asked, his eyes going back to the door way the doctor just walked out of. 

“You’ve connected yourself to her, the last person you saw before you died, she brought you back to life, she’s the one who grounded you here…she’s your Anchor.” The old man stared at Steve, a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

‘My Anchor?’ Steve thought, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you can probably leave the hospital, which is very rare, most of us are stuck here, trapped until we move on, although you’ll only be able to go where she goes. You don’t have to walk anywhere y’know, you can just sort of…go there, you just have to think about it. My guess, if she’s the one who’s keeping you here, she’s the one who can let you go.” 

“Let me go? Like…I’ll die?” Steve asks, looking back at himself in bed. 

“I dunno kid, either that or you’ll go back to your body, I really don’t know, both of them are better than your current situation.” He said, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his bobbly old sweater. 

“Wait…you said, most of us…are there more, like us? Stuck?” 

“Oh yeah! Loads of us, sometimes they stay for a second, sometimes a day, or sometimes years, like me. Don’t forget kid, this is a hospital, people die here every day!” The man stated, holding out his hands for exaggeration. 

“Years? I could be stuck like this for years? How long have you been here?” Steve asked desperately. 

“Didn’t you listen to what that nice lady-doctor said? She said you’re young and healthy, despite you’re current predicament, you’ll be right as rain in no time! Me, meh, I was old, I was cranky, I had a stroke. Two days after my 70th birthday. It’s my own fault, I know that, doctors told me I should have quit smoking yeas before, did I listen…no, and look where that got me, my body six feet under in Brooklyn Cemetery and my what-ever-the-hell-I-am here, stuck for nearly ten years!” 

‘Ten Years…’ Thought Steve. He couldn’t bear to be asleep, again for another 10 years.

‘Anyway kid, I’m Artie, Artie Hopper, whenever you need me, just call; I gotta get down to the Morgue to meet another new arrival. It was nice to meet’cha.” He said with a wave.  
“Yeah, nice meeting you too, I guess…” Said Steve quietly. 

“Oh kid, before I go, how’d you get here anyway, to the hospital, you look pretty beat up.” Artie asked, his head popping around the door. 

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you” Steve said flatly, his mind thinking back to the Avenger’s last mission. To thumping heartbeats, a cold warehouse, a monster and one, big, green fist.


	5. Chapter 5:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long chapter – I just wanted the explanation for Steve’s injuries to be as thorough as possible! Enjoy! Em x

Steve’s POV: 

24 Hours Earlier…

It had been a relatively quiet day at ‘Avengers HQ’, Tasha and Clint had been called off for training at S.H.E.I.L.D, Tony and Dr Banner had been experimenting on…something in R&D with Jane, Darcy and Thor, not that Steve thought the Demi-God had any actual scientific input on the matter whatsoever and Pepper was away on a business trip for Stark Industries somewhere half-way around the world, expected to back for some charity gala he’d promised Tony he’d attend with him and Pepper in place of Thor, as that really didn’t go down too well before. Despite the popularity of Captain America, Steve still managed some privacy, especially in the face of the press ‘thank god for that ugly cowl’. For some reason Tony had thought it a good idea to invite Thor as an ‘ambassador’ to Earth from Asgard, attending the annual Policemen’s Gala…however, someone challenged him to an arm-wrestling match which amounted to over $100,000 in damages, so, he was never, ever again invited to another public occasion. The spies Barton and Romanoff were too suspicious to be seen at any events, and, like Steve, managed to remain some animosity, and Dr Banner, well, nobody knew who he was when he wasn’t all…green. So the burden fell to Steve who had to shake hands with celebrities and campaign runners, smile for photographs and suffer through the endless flirting of random women. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the attention, after 70 years on ice it was nice to get out there again, especially after Peggy, but these women weren’t what he was used to; at times it was all still a little overwhelming. 

And so the rather uneventful afternoon found him sat at the breakfast bar of the common area on the 127th floor of Avengers Tower flipping through random pages of the text books Coulson had given him as part of his re-integration programme, which Darcy had described as Steve ‘getting with the times and becoming ‘current’, not that he had any idea what that meant. Some of the topics he had covered had been very interesting; the moon landing for example, he was so jealous of those around him who actually got to witness it on TV…let alone witness a TV for the first time; now they were everywhere, thin, plastic flat things, ipods, iphones, ipads, screens that with a single touch can do basically anything. One of the first things Tony taught him how to use was his phone, which Tony said was a ‘state of the art StarkPhone’, it had everything on it and yet the only thing he actually uses it for is for calls, and the occasional text, however the only people who ever really texted him were Darcy and Tony, both to annoy him really, never actually having anything important to say. 

Looking out on the impressive panorama in front of him, he could see just from the skyline of his home city how much the times had changed. The buildings got bigger, taller, more high-tech (Tony’s self-sufficient tower being an example), the mid-morning sun glimmering off millions of darkly coloured glass windows. From here you could almost see Brooklyn, the faint hue of brown cobblestone and the small square blocks of three-storey walk ups. He’s been back there, only once to his old neighbourhood, which had both changed completely at not at all, it gave him an ache in his chest that made him think of too many things; his mother, Bucky, Peggy, Howard, Dr Erskine…people from another life. A sharp ringing sound startled Steve from his past and back to the present, picking up his phone he checked the ID and saw it was his favourite S.H.E.I.L.D agent on the line;   
“Agent Coulson, what can I do for you?” Steve asked, his tone suddenly serious, Coulson never called unless it was something important.   
“Captain, we have a situation, Agents Romanoff, Barton and I are on our way to you, I’ll explain more when were there, it’s not something to discuss over the phone.” Replied Coulson in his usual short and to the point as usual. 

“Right, I’ll make sure everyone’s in the conference room when you arrive.” 

“Good, see you in a few Captain”. The line went dead and Steve, out of habit looked to the ceiling before speaking to JARVIS:

“JARVIS, can you make sure that the others got Coulson’s message there’s a situation and I need the team assembled in the conference room ASAP.” 

“Of Course Captain Rogers” replied the automated voice politely “I’ll make sure everyone is there in two minutes.” 

Steve then made his away across the large expanse of the communal floor to the elevator, which then took him up two levels to the Command Centre, which had a full communications deck, armoury, training facility and the conference room, where they would meet before every mission to strategize. Despite the fact that this floor was for the team as a whole, Tony’s influence could be seen everywhere; super-high tech gadgetry lined the walls, every surface had some kind of technological interface or capability and nearly everything was either black carbon fibre or ‘Iron Man Red’ as he called it. He finally reached the conference room, already finding Darcy, Jane and Thor inside, sat together on the opposite side of the table in deep, black leather office chairs. The files were already open on the computerized table, the other three scrolling down the notes in preparation; however, Darcy slid a good old fashioned manilla folder across to Steve with a wink, muttering something about ‘old school’ under her breath. 

Steve opened up the file, looking at page after page of complex equations and numbers that made his head hurt just trying to comprehend what it even related to. Scanning a few paragraphs he noticed a few choice phrases that he was all too familiar with; ‘Gamma radiation’, ‘Super Soldier Serum’ and ‘The Hulk’. Glancing up at Bruce, Steve saw the good doctor frowning behind his glasses, hands coursing across his five o’clock shadow in contemplation; he could only imagine how difficult a situation this must be for him. From what he could understand a man by the name of General Ross forced an experimentation of the super soldier serum created by Dr Erskine and Gamma Radiation on a volunteer named Emil Blonsky, a Russian born, decorated Captain of the Royal Marines. However, the serum does not take the way it did to Banner, in which he has some relative control over the Hulk, Blonsky had seemingly no control over himself when he transformed into what was only described as an ‘Abomination’. Blonsky was detained by S.H.E.I.L.D with the help of the Hulk, shortly before Banner’s disappearance until only last year. However, it appeared that in captivity, Blonsky had escaped and now the Abomination was wreaking chaos on a specialist facility in the Nevada Desert. 

The entrance of Clint and Coulson pulled Steve’s attention from the file, followed by an irate looking Tony being dragged into the room by his ear lobe by Natasha who seemed determined, yet amused. Coulson stood in front, placing his StarkPad on the tech table, watching dead-pan as an angry roar filled the room, followed by a hologram of an ugly, grey beast swinging black-clad agents through the thick concrete walls of the detainment facility. The creature was deformed looking, not like the Hulk, who still held certain physical traits of his softly-spoken alter ego, and showed no grasp of human emotion or morals what-so-ever. 

‘Gees, we thought the Hulk was hard to control’ Steve thought, wincing as it mercilessly crushed three highly trained and decorated agents in the palm of its hand.   
“This is the last footage we have of Emil Blonsky, AKA ‘The Abomination’. Right now we have him contained within the facility, but we can’t be sure how much longer it’ll hold with the rampage he’s been going on. We’ve lost all communication; he’s wiped out most of the control deck so at this point it’s a matter of hours before this situation is dangerous to the public.” Coulson stated in his usual nonchalant tone.

“This creature will be no match for Banner and I” stated Thor proudly, “I am sure that between us he will have met his match” He nodded towards Bruce who gave the Demi-God an uneasy smile, nervously tapping the images in front of him.

“I’m not so sure Thor, the last time you said that I kind of threw you into a fighter jet, and killed the entire crew of the Hover-Craft… Bruce stammered awkwardly, letting the statement lie dormant for a few moments before continuing; and the last time The Other Guy and Blonsky met, well…we kind of…broke Harlem and the last time I was in the desert, General Ross tried to nuke me out of existence”.

“Well, fortunately for you Dr Banner, General Ross was detained this morning by Agents Barton and Romanoff, so there won’t be any unscheduled nuclear fiascos as long as we have any say in it, and the facility was purposely built in the middle of nowhere in case a situation such as this ever arose. I believe that with the help of the team, The Hulk can get Blonsky into a position to which we can properly…exterminate the situation”. Coulson continued, his eyes shifting around the table to each of the Avengers. 

“You mean, kill him, we’re going to kill Blonsky?” Steve interjected. 

“If necessary yes we will be exterminating a threat, one that has already taken the lives of nearly thirty S.H.I.E.L.D Agents” He replied shortly, obviously surprised by Steve’s objection. 

“Isn’t this the exact mentality of those who wanted the Hulk ‘exterminated’ all those years ago? Is there no other way to do this without killing him?” 

“I’m sorry…are you saying that thing and Bruce are the same? Because, soldier boy, if you haven’t noticed, Bruce has a little something called control, if Blonsky had maybe tried that then he wouldn’t be in this situation now.” Tony said incredulously, peering over his sunglasses at Steve. 

“No, no of course I’m not saying they’re the same, I’m saying that the situation is similar, have you thought that perhaps Blonsky is in this particular situation because he can’t control it the way Dr Banner can?” Steve asked, getting more and more agitated. Looking around the room he could see he was fighting a losing battle, usually he was the one giving the orders, they’d go in with minimal force and only strike when needed, he didn’t need or want any more causalities than usual and to him, Blonsky was an unneeded casualty. 

“Look, the way I see it” started Clint, “the guy has a previous record of violence, he joined the Amy to kill and he joined the programme to kill, proven by the fact he killed - hundreds of people. It’s gone too far; he needs to be taken out.” 

“I hate to agree with it Steve, but they’re right. I know this guy, I’ve seen what he’s done. He is fully aware up there” Bruce sighed, taping the side of his head gently, “He knows what he’s doing. Ha can only be stopped with like force and as much as I hate to say it, I think the Other- the Hulk could be useful on this one”.

“Yeah! That’s how you strut it big guy!” shouted Tony excitably across the table, extending an open pal across the table in an un-answered high-five from the scientist.   
Soon after, Coulson called an end to the meeting and the team assembled their gear, checking and re-checking while Natasha fired up the jet. Tony was already suited up save for his helmet as he joined Steve in the carrier, giving his back a solid, metal thwack; 

“Don’t sweat it Cap, we’ll be in and out in no time and then Pep will have you spinning on the dance floor in no time”. Steve didn’t know what was more horrifying the ‘Abomination’ or the idea of publically dancing in an uncomfortable thousand dollar suit in front of hundreds of strangers. 

Technically the plan was good; Bruce, Thor and Tony would go in on point, Iron Man and Thor would give him a beating before Bruce unleashed the Hulk who would lead him away from the facility North of Las Vegas and then He, Clint and Natasha would drop as much ammunition as they could carry on him, obliterating the target. However, Steve just had a gut feeling; if he was able to communicate with the Hulk, than surely he could talk down Blonky, an ex-soldier, a war hero. The whole reason he was in this mess to begin with was due to orders from General Ross, he was injured, angry, he wanted revenge and the whole thing got too big for him; he understood how he felt in a way; although his own experimentation had a much more appealing ending. Somehow he just knew that there was a different scenario that could be at play here, one the other didn’t see, even Dr Banner. 

In under 30 minutes the jet landed outside the facility, Tony and Thor flying overhead to start the first phase of the mission whilst Bruce did his pre-Hulk-out warm up – essentially he waited for maybe 50 seconds or so, balled up his fists and screamed, gradually tearing out of his former self and into the huge, green rage monster. The Hulk turned towards the Cap, who unsurely spoke Hulk’s favourite line: 

“Smash!” 

The Hulk grinned his toothy grin and ran, stomping towards the facility, where already screams of rage could be heard, echoing across the dried expanse along with the sound of gun-fire and the sharp metallic thump of Thor’s hammer. 

Meanwhile, he, Hawkeye and Black Widow readied the ammunition, strapping the heavy landing explosives together that Natasha had skilfully crafted herself, who was at this moment tying and retying her precious creations to each other, making sure they were positioned with the trap doors in the jet’s floor. Clint was checking the comm’s, darkly chuckling at Tony’s sarcastic remarks or triumphant cheers about something ‘awesome’ the Hulk had done, still after nearly 40 missions together, amazed at the sheer destructive force of the Jackal to Dr Banner’s Hyde. 

Right on cue there was a colossal boom in which a shower of rubble flew into the desert sending a cloud of red dust up in the air, through which could be seen Abomination flying backwards and Thor tacking him to the ground…on the wrong side of the compound. Hulk was not far behind, wielding a chunk of debris as a weapon, tumbling into the other monster sending pounding roars across the great expanse of land. Tony was then seen trying to force the two of them back towards the base, sending small missiles into the back of Blonsky which was to no avail. 

“Shit” cursed Clint, who suddenly jumped behind the steering of the jet. 

“We need to push them to the other side, it’ll be too easy for them to get to the city if we don’t, can’t risk another repeat of Harlem.” shouted Natasha over the howling wind of the drop door coming though the jet. 

Clint positioned them right behind the Abomination who at this point was using Iron Man as a weapon, pummelling the Hulk with him, who was obviously trying to catch his friend. He let of a few rounds into the grey beast, moving around him as he spun, throwing his arms out to catch the jet. Thor was once again trying to thunder him back into the compound, only getting a few meters back from their previous position. Clint once again opened fire, but could not avoid the projectile thrown at them; Tony. He came crashing through the windscreen and into the cargo bay, stopped only inches from Natasha’s delicate explosive device by Steve grabbing a metal arm and dragging him into the cockpit.   
“Phew, nice save there Cap, I’m not quite ready to be the finale for the fourth of July” Tony joked, his tiny voice from behind his seriously damaged helmet.   
Suddenly a massive greyish green hand appeared before them, grabbing the nose of the jet and spinning it round into the Hulk that flew backwards into the heap of rubble. The jet managed to stay in flight, hovering only inches above the destroyed base until the Abomination dived on top of them, leaving hardly any time for the group to make a quick jump out of the back of the jet. Tony grabbed the super-spies by their harnesses, dropping them feet first on to a large piece of concrete, Steve was just behind until he was thrown right into the central control panel back first, knocking the wind out of him as the jet was punched through the ceiling of the main detainment facility, or what was left of it. 

For a few brief moments the only noise Steve could hear was the settling of falling rubble before hearing a deep grumble and heavy, ominous footsteps coming towards him. Finding his bearings, Steve clambered over the wreckage of the jet, shield in hand, trying to ignore the sting of a few deep cuts to his chest where bits of shrapnel from the plane had perforated his armour. He needed to get Blonsky away from the jet, knowing that any other damage to the fuselage would trigger the explosives. He was making good speed, heading further North into the facility, when a deafening roar echoed in the empty building, momentarily distracting Steve. That moment was all it needed as the wall adjacent to him shattered out of the way of a huge closed fist, making way for the grotesque body that followed. It was just the two of them now, he had lost communication with the rest of the team, not knowing where they were set him on edge, the plan now completely in tatters. The Abomination was gradually edging closer, Steve glanced behind him, seeing that there was a thick, solid wall coming up closer and closer. He knew that if he was going to try and talk Blonsky down, this would be his only chance. 

“Blonsky! Captain Blonsky, look, this is a hell of a situation you’ve got yourself in here…we just want to help you…nobody else has to get hurt, just stop this madness and turn back – you can do that right? Turn back?” Steve asked, both hopeful and scared out of his mind. This thing sure as hell didn’t look like the Hulk, it looked like something right out of a nightmare, but the large figure paused momentarily, as if considering Cap’s question.

“WHY TURN BACK?! I HAVE POWER!” Screamed the Abomination. 

‘Well, this is not going the way I imagined” thought Steve, trying to stop the shiver running up his spine. 

“We can help you control that power, use it for something good!” replied the Cap, his hope of the situation being back under control edging away as the creature thudded closer and closer to him.

“I HAVE CONTROL, I USE IT!” 

With a roar he swung a huge, green fist at Steve, which reverberated off his shield, sending him crashing through the wall and into the adjoining room and the Abomination backwards, further into the rubble and fuselage of the jet, the crash momentarily followed by the rumble of detonating explosives and a final roar of pure anguish. Just as Steve slowly stood up from his collision course, the speeding flames flooded into the room, catching light on fallen hospital equipment and dividers, spreading quickly. Steve scouted for a path out, the smoke getting thicker by the second, spotted bags of liquid and what looked like blood on the floor, however, before he could even comprehend what this meant, the room was filled by a sudden stifling heat and promptly exploded, flinging Steve back out into the warehouse, hitting his head, hard on a sharp piece of rubble.   
He could feel the injuries already trying to heal, but beneath that a startling coldness seeping through him, fighting it off, he opened his eyes to see the very grimy and concerned face of Natasha looking down at him followed by Clint, Thor and Tony. 

“Where’s…Bruce?” Steve asked noticing their missing team member. 

“Oh, he’s trying to find something to cover his…modesty” Tony said, smirking. 

“That was a really stupid move there Cap” chimed in Clint, offering hand-up to their leader.

“Yeah, well, Banner was right, I had to improvise, sort of had my back against the wall there for a minute, at least Natasha’s explosives worked.” Steve winced, his wounds were taking there sweet time healing today. 

“You’re Welcome” the spy said, then muttering something in Russian causing her partner to choke a down a laugh. 

After finding Bruce a medical coat that wasn’t overly singed or tattered in the destruction of the base, a recovery and clean up team arrived that took the team back to HQ, who wearily reported back to Coulson and Fury before heading there separate way for post-mission warm down.

Tony caught up with Steve in the hallway of the Command Centre before stepping onto the elevator. 

“Hey man, we did good today huh? Despite y’know destroying a multi-million dollar facility and the jet…but they weren’t mine, so I don’t feel guilty…hey, you feeling okay? You don’t look so hot?” Tony asked, placing a steadying hand on Steve’s still uniformed shoulder. 

“What? Oh, yeah, just a little stiff, from the fight, I’ll be fine in a jiff” Steve replied quickly, brushing off Tony’s concern, echoing his own thoughts at the back of his mind.   
“Good, because Pepper would have your ass otherwise, she’s been going on and on about this event tonight, saying she’ll finally have someone ‘civilized’ to talk to! The nerve right!?” Tony joked, slapping a friendly hand on Steve’s back, causing him to wince slightly, unnoticed by his companion. 

‘The charity event, I almost forgot!’ Thought Steve, inwardly groaning, all he wanted at this very moment was a nice hot shower and his bed. 

“Yeah, of course, wouldn’t miss it.” Lied Steve. 

“Cool, be there or be square” Tony quipped before stepping off at his floor, “Actually, be there or Pep will literally come up here herself and drag you by your shiny, shiny bootstraps”, he mock saluted right before the elevator doors closed, causing Steve’s spirits to lift a little. 

Steve slowly made his way to his apartment, pulling off his blood stained stars and striped top, standing in front of the bathroom mirror to assess the damage. It was the worst he had ever seen himself; there was a long, deep tear on his right side along with a few shorter contusions that bled profusely. His abdomen was already starting to bruise angrily, deep purple blotches pooling under his skin. In this light he also managed to get a look at his face, torn up a little, but healing quickly, unlike the rest of him. Every time he moved, the wounds would stop healing and tear open again, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through him. His head was spinning, a white, hot pain settling between his eyes, causing the light to become too bright, burning into him. 

‘Something’s not right’ Steve thought, starting to panic he dug through the draws in search of the first aid kit; not that he ever really needed it, but Darcy and Pepper forced him to keep it just in case. 

‘Guess they were right, always are’

With a shaky hand he managed to thread a needle with the medical stitching wire, silently cursing when the needle pieced his torn skin. Taking his time, he stitched up the deeper wounds, feeling some relief when the skin was closer together, the wound needing less effort to try and repair the damage. The cleaned himself up, adding a few bandages to the other side of his torso where the lesser scrapes and cuts were, already feeling a little better than before. 

Getting dressed in a well-fitting grey suit, dark blue tie and shiny black shoes, Steve started to feel human again, trying to scrub the events from the afternoon from his mind. He met Tony and Pepper in the lobby of Avengers Tower, the pair looking as fancy as ever, Tony looking dashing in a dark blue three piece suit and tie, and Pepper in a gorgeous emerald dress, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. They met Steve warmly as Happy ushered them into the car, Tony offering Steve a celebratory glass of very expensive Champagne, despite the face it would have absolutely no effect. 

‘Maybe it won’t be such a bad night after all’ He thought, listening to Tony’s impressions of Thor and the tinkling laughter of Pepper, as carefree and happy as he’d seen her in a long while. 

They soon arrived at the Waldorf Hotel, to an expanse of red carpet and flash of photographers, Tony went off, corralling the crowds whilst Pepper took Steve’s arm, smiling at him and rolling her eyes at her partner. 

The night started off well, the tacky business men were at an all-time low, the speech givers minimal, and he only got his ass pinched by an older woman twice, both of which made him flush bright red, causing Pepper to giggle and profusely apologize. The night was made better the arrival of Colonel Rhodes, whom had struck up a great rapport with Steve and had an on-going banter over the old argument Army vs. Air Force. 

A few hours in and only two embarrassing dances, one with Pepper, who Tony said can make any man look good no matter his ‘skills’ on the dance floor, Steve was starting to feel that chill creeping up his spine and a cold flush on his forehead. His palms were beginning to sweat and he was trembling as he nonchalantly pressed his hand to his side, feeling a hot wetness coming from underneath his shirt. The stitches had come undone and blood was seeping out from under the dressing he’s so pain-snakingly applied hours before. Steve politely excused himself from the clutches of some millionaire’s daughter pressing his hand more tightly into his side to prevent more blood loss. Tony, who had been watching this exchange with glee, noticed his friend’s speedy exist, heading towards the bathroom…without the blonde. 

Steve found the men’s room thankfully empty as he shed his suit jacket, the lining of which was already drenched in blood and seeping through his white button down. Tearing open the buttons he gazed in horror at the gruesome sight before him – he was bleeding. Everywhere. He wasn’t healing. For the first time in a long time he felt weak. He could feel his legs giving way as he fell to the floor. He felt like the old Steve, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who didn’t know how to pick a fight. 

‘I guess some things never change’ He thought, feeling, once again that white hot pain in his head, suddenly registering the sound of footsteps on the marble floor of the men’s room. 

“Steve, come on man, it’s not that bad out there to be hiding out in the – OH MY GOD!” proclaimed Tony as he rounded the curse of the wall to the bathroom. 

Steve was lying on the floor in a huge puddle of his own blood, pale and weakened, huge gashes covering his body and his dark blonde hair matted in red in a clump to the side. 

“Steve! Steve, come on buddy, you’ve got to heal” Pleaded Tony, kneeling down next to him, staining his suit. 

“I…Can’t…try…Something’s wrong.” rasped Steve, clutching his chest. 

“It’s going to be okay buddy, alright, help’s coming” he said quickly, getting out his phone and dialing 911 “you’re going to be okay” 

At this point Pepper walked in, gasping at the sight in front of her; 

“Oh my god! Steve! What the hell happened?” 

“It’s from the fight earlier, he’s not healing, I don’t have time to get a S.H.E.L.D MedEvac here so they’re just going to have to handle it when we get to the hospital” Tony replied to Pepper in between talking to the EMT’s on the line. 

“Tony…” Steve rasped again, covering his hand with his own blood-soaked one, “Tony…I’m sorry” 

The other man could see where he was going with this, and really didn’t want to hear a Captain McGuilt-Fest America speech whilst he was bleeding out in his arms on the floor of the men’s room. 

“No, don’t you dare okay? I don’t want to hear any of that crap coming from you do you understand me? Just rest until the EMT’s get here, you’re going to be okay Steve do you hear me? Steve?” 

Steve, however, did not hear him. Seconds before his heart had just stopped beating for the second time in his long life and he felt nothing, finally but the warmth he had been trying to find in the icy darkness, oblivious to where he was going and what lay ahead.


	6. Chapter 6:

Steve’s POV:

After the sudden disappearance of his new ‘friend’ Artie, Steve decided not to take the old man’s advice and follow Dr Alexander, but to stay with his body. It was still so strange to see himself this way – lying there, unaware and unresponsive; he can’t even remember the last time he didn’t have to be always on alert. Even before the trial he was always looking over his shoulder; a skinny kid in a bad neighbourhood – he was always the target of someone or another. Here, now, lying in that hospital bed, although scarred and bruised, he looked…peaceful. All traces of worry were wiped from his face; his hands weren’t curled in fists, his eyes closed without having to see the painful memories that surfaced every time he fell asleep.  
‘All the memories are here…’ Thought Steve, looking down at his hands, and then back to the ones on his body, still feeling very displaced. 

The room was very quiet, save the constant beeping of the heart monitor; Steve had noticed that Darcy’s fingers were drumming along the wooden arm-rest of the hospital chair in the corner of the room, the other loosely clasping a sleeping Jane’s hand, whose head was resting on Thor’s sturdy shoulder. Clint and Natasha were sat on the window sills; Clint was napping, his head resting on the frame, Natasha intently staring at Steve, as if she was willing him to wake up. Pepper and Tony had hardly moved, still sat at the foot of the bed, their hands entwined, Pepper had her eyes closed, her head resting on the back wall whilst Tony, like Tasha, was looking at his fallen friend before him. He knew that look on Tony’s face, he’d seen it the previous year following the Manhattan Attack, a deep, distant look of hidden horror – Tony was slipping. It pained Steve to see him this way, especially after the terrific year he’d been having; proposing to Pepper, getting the Arc Reactor taken out, turning the tower into a home for the whole team; it was the family he’d always wanted, the family everyone else needed. Phil was sat in the same seat as well, scrolling through something on his phone, every now and again, a small smile coming to his lips; ‘Ah, The Cellist’ thought Steve, smiling at the fun the team got out of teasing Coulson about his love life with a woman, whose real name was only known to Pepper, and everyone else would make absurd guesses to her actual identity, the latest being Darcy’s guess of ‘Agnes’ who has a huge wart between her eyes. Bruce, however, was nowhere to be seen, the chart he’d been looking at before had been placed on a metal rack on the end of his bed, and he could just make out the sweeping yet neat signature of Dr Alexander on the page.

Steve’s mind then drifted to the doctor, she’d seemed so sure and understanding, he was clear yet compassionate at the same time, plus she had kind eyes. She saved his life, brought him back from the brink multiple times; she was the reason he was here, and not down in the morgue like Artie’s new arrival. He could still picture her; wisps of chocolate brown hair, the tiny gold studs in perfectly shaped ear lobes, the silhouette of her heart-shaped face, he could even feel the ghost of her touch where she’d gently placed the IV. He didn’t know why he was thinking of her so much, only that he knew he didn’t want another doctor, he wanted her…or should he say, he wanted her to treat him. She did save his life after all, she was a good doctor. With that thought, Steve looked up, expecting to see himself in the hospital bed, only to see that he was no longer in his original place; he’d moved. 

The room he was in now was dimly lit by two or three scattered lamps in a cluttered room filled with books, picture frames and other knick-knacks. The floor was polished wood, and the walls were mainly exposed brick and pipe, reminding him of the three-storey walk-ups in Brooklyn. It was an open plan living space with an old, scratched dining table and two miss-matched chairs, a large, worn leather sofa and a rather beaten looking dark green velvet armchair, that had small tears in the seams that had been stitched up with bright pink coloured thread. The main wall was completely covered in filled book-shelves, the books stacked on top of each other, a mixture of factual and fiction, more the former than latter, mainly consisting of medical research and text books. On one of the shelves was one of those old-fashioned grey’s anatomy porcelain heads showing the different sections of the brain, however this one had a fake moustache stuck to its top lip and a surgical cap tied on to its top. 

‘Medical stuff…this must be the doctor’s house!’ 

Steve suddenly felt very awkward, like he was breaking and entering into someone’s home; even if he did just magically appear here without intending to. Quickly walking across the room, stepping over piles of books and medical journals as he went, Steve quietly opened the door of the apartment hoping to make a speedy exit only to find he was propelled backwards, some force stopping him from leaving. He tried and tried to no avail, until finally giving up and sitting down on the sofa, contemplating his next move. He was being as quiet as possible, to hear if there was anyone home; and could make out the dulled sound of the opening and closing of draws down the hallway. Just as he was about to go and investigate, someone appeared from behind one of the doors, a young woman in pyjama bottoms ,tank top and a hoodie, wet, dark hair atop of her head, face scrubbed clean but with dark circles under her eyes. It was Dr Alexander. She looked different this way, less reserved, softer, and definitely more tired. She padded her way to the kitchen, her socked feet sliding along the smooth floor, breaking out into a skid and promptly stopping in front of the fridge. She seriously considered its contents for a moment or two, tapping her small foot on the floor as she did before reaching in and grabbing the carton of milk, a bowl from the next cupboard and a box of cereal, which had been placed so far back in the cupboard above her head, she had to stand on her tip-toes, which Steve had to admit, was very cute. Smiling at her victory after fixing her snack, the doctor then began walking towards Steve, looking directly at him. He looked over his shoulder, realising there was nothing there, suddenly feeling very exposed to be sat in a strange woman’s house, who was very under-dressed, without invitation. She, however, seemed to take no notice of him flopping down on the other end of the sofa, stretching her legs out on the coffee table and turning on the TV. She flicked through a couple of channels before settling on something, laying down the remote and starting her cereal.  
At that moment another figure appeared, this time a man, with tanned skin, dark, curly hair and a slight beard, also wearing PJ’s ‘Maybe her boyfriend?’ Thought Steve.  
He sat down in the armchair which was directly next to Steve, picking up his phone from the coffee table and swiftly typing out a reply to a text message. The man then looked over at the doctor, and then to the TV and asked: 

“What are we watching tonight then?”

Dr Alexander waited a beat, still chewing a bit of her late night snack; “Hoarders”. 

“Ughh yes! That show makes me feel good about my bad life choices in comparison to the people on it! Plus the voice over guy’s voice is deep and sexy” He said a hint of laughter in his voice. 

‘Okay, maybe not her boyfriend’

The doctor chuckled; “Yeah, but looking at the state of our apartment I’d say we’re probably the next candidates.” 

The guy laughed, then a moment later, let out a deep, heavy sigh. Suddenly all traced of fun had been wiped from his face, and replaced with one that was torn between sadness and tiredness. 

“Yeah buddy, I know, it’s been a hell of a day” said Dr Alexander, looking over at the man sympathetically. 

“I had to get all the transfer patients sorted out tonight, they all wanted to know why they were leaving, I had no idea what to tell them, the Men in Black were crawling all over the place it was freaking me out – didn’t you have to resuscitate the guy they brought in?” asked the , leaning forwards in his chair. 

“Yeah…three times actually. It was pretty bad, can’t tell you much about it though, I had to sign a mountain of non-disclosures!” Replied Dr Alexander

“Wonder who the guy is? I heard rumours that Tony Stark was with him and that he brought out the whole of the ICU just for the guy, Macie in OBG was saying it was his secret brother or something?”

“Haha! Well, I don’t know about Tony Stark…or the brother thing, but he did buy out the ICU until he recovers, practically has his own private army and surgical staff on hand up there, I’m sure Dr Stanton will debrief us all on shift tomorrow” replied the doctor, yawning into the back of her hand “speaking of, I have to be back at the hospital in….8 hours, so I’m going to bed, night!” 

“Night” replied the guy distantly, who one last time checked his phone, and seeing there were no messages, picked it up and padded towards the direction of his room, turning back a final time, almost looking his invisible visitor in the eye, and turning off the lights. 

“Oh Great” Steve exclaimed, realising he was sitting alone, in the dark, in his doctor’s apartment. Just as he thought he was stuck there, a door suddenly opened in front of his, one that had not previously been there before, and there emerged the smiling face of Artie Hopper, his eyes bright behind his thick frames. Steve was, once again, very confused.  
“Ah, yes, I thought I heard you muttering in here, don’t worry it’s a little hard to find your bearings the first time” He said, opening the door fully to reveal an empty hospital hallway. 

"But I was just -"

“-At the doctor lady’s house yeah, yeah, and now you’re in the janitor’s closet!” Interrupted Artie, beckoning Steve to vacate the upturned bucket he’d been sat on and join him outside. 

“Okay…well that was…different.” said Steve, his eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the hospital hallway. 

“So, did you learn anything? What was it like?” Asked Artie, smiling and with a trace of curiosity in his crackly voice. 

“Umm…well, she lives with a male nurse I think…we didn’t have them in my day! And she’s not the tidiest of people either, that and she eats cereal for dinner” Steve mentioned, smiling at remembering Dr Alexander reaching for the cereal box on her toes. 

“Right…so you learned…nothing, oh well, not to matter you’ll have plenty of time. And hey, what do you mean in ‘your day’, you can’t be any older than thirty!” Artie questioned, giving Steve a sweep from head to toe. 

“Yeah, Artie, like you said…plenty of time, I’ll tell you later. Right now, I just really want to get back to my friends.” 

“Yeah…Okay Steve, I’ll see’ya around” 

Artie looked suspiciously at Steve as he walked away, realising now that he somehow looked familiar. He had no idea what brought Steve to him, usually he’s either connected to a person in one way or another, or had some kind of similar experience in his life to them. Steve Rogers was a complexity that he just couldn’t wrap his mind around. For a ghost, that boy just wasn’t very transparent.


	7. Chapter 7:

Beth’s POV: 

She hardly slept that night. It had been a long time since she’s had a shift that stressful and usually, even after the lightest of work days, she’d jump into bed and fall asleep almost instantly. Last night however it just didn’t want to come, she just kept on thinking about the man she’d saved that day at the hospital, marvelling at the fact he was somehow alive.   
‘60% of his blood’ Beth thought, remembering the way it pooled out from his wounds as she started chest compressions. 

For some reason this case was haunting her, she kept on going over the facts in her head, despite the fact he was young and healthy, he really should be dead, there was no way someone could sustain that much internal damage and just stich themselves back up. Something about Captain Rogers stumped her, and she couldn’t put it out of her mind.   
Beth was sat at the breakfast bar as Jason shuffled in, his eyes tired and dark brown curls tangled from sleep. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a grey t-shirt and blue hoodie, something comfy before having to change into his green scrubs when he got to the hospital. He popped some toast in the toaster and poured some coffee, leaning against the counter-top and scrolling through his phone. 

“Seriously?” Asked Beth “I swear, lately all you do is check your phone, who are you texting all the time!” 

Jason just smiled, not even looking up from the screen and said; “none of your business!” swerving his hand out of the way of his roommate’s quick grab. 

“No fair!” she whined, “I can’t believe you a have a secret boyfriend and you’re not going to tell me who it is?! What are best friends for?” 

“Well, if I told you he wouldn’t be a secret boyfriend, and best friends are for telling you that if you don’t get your skinny ass ready you’re going to be late…I have a ride!” Jason smiled, grabbing his toast and bag, giving Beth quick kiss on the cheek and swiftly running out the door. 

‘Great, now I’m the only single one’ Beth thought, marvelling at the fact her best friend was hiding his new boyfriend from her. 

‘We used to tell each other everything!’ 

Navigating around the piles of her possessions scattered all over the floor, she managed to find her things and head out the door to the subway station three blocks away with only relative lateness. Beth loved New York, she loved the crowds and the rush, loved the fact that there were millions of people all around her, each with their own individual story. She managed to find a seat on the train, picking up a day old newspaper and filling in the half-empty crossword that had been filled in with three different kinds of pen. It was only four stops to the the hospital, and when she exited the station, she saw the steam rising from the grate, following the skyscrapers and office buildings up towards the sky, which was a threatening shade of grey. 

“Looks like rain today Bethany” said a croaky and familiar voice from behind. 

Beth turned around to see the elderly face of Leroy Dodd, his smiling weathered face partially covered with a thick, white beard, his greying curly hair partially hidden by a warm woolly hat. He held out a copy of the New York Times for her and his tin can in the other. She placed the money in the can, which made a residual clang and replied; 

“Well, let’s hope it lets up by 9:30 pm tonight, that’s when I get off, don’t think I’ll be spending much time outside today – hey Leroy, make sure you stay dry okay, I don’t want to see you in my ER with pneumonia!” 

“Yes ma’am, anyways, I always carry an umbrella” said Leroy, indicating to the tatty old umbrella hung up on the subway fence. 

“Good to hear it, see ya’ tomorrow!” 

Beth walked through the main doors of New York Presbytarian and into the hallways, which, even at this time in the morning were packed and busy. She walked past the main reception, nodding at the nurse on duty and the security guard before making her way to the staff locker room. Most of the team were in there already, competitively comparing notes on patients, which doctor had the biggest case on shift the night before. She knew that she had won with Captain Rogers, but didn’t want to mention it for some reason, even though her treatment of him was probably some of her best work. 

“…I mean, I got the diagnosis in one examination, already knew it was that before the tests confirmed it” Gloated Dr Grant Keefer, who was currently doing a rotation in Oncology and was determined he’d be the real life Dr House in a few days to come. 

“Yeah, well I got to scrub in on conjoined twins last week, seriously, nothing can top that” chimed in Dr Harold Wu, who was in Paediatrics. 

“But…did you actually do anything than hold some forceps and do suction?” Asked Dr Andrea Bellamy

“Well…No but –“ 

“Then it doesn’t count” She interrupted “Yesterday I worked on this guy who had 9 pins in his leg from getting hit by a bus…then a car.” Dr Bellamy was probably one of the most competitive people Beth had ever met, she was kind of a pain in the ass in the way that she literally put in no effort in med school but still managed to make it through with perfect grades, a certain kind of luck which had seemingly followed through to her residency. 

“Oh, hey Beth, you were working the graveyard shift last night, did you see who treated Coma Guy?” asked Grant, smirking at her as he did. 

“Huh…Who?” asked Beth 

“Coma Guy…Y’know the guy who got the whole ICU to himself, apparently Tony Stark and the clan of merry men are up there too!” Grant repeated, she really didn’t like his tone, or the way he referred to the Captain Rogers. 

“Uh…yeah, I did…It was me” she replied, fixing her pager to the elastic of her blue scrubs. 

Looking up, Beth saw all of her colleagues staring at her, mouths agape and expressions of surprise painting their faces. 

“Well shit Alexander, I heard that was a pretty tough save, didn’t the guy code like three times?” Grant asked incredulously. 

“Four times, actually, and stop referring to the patient has ‘Coma Guy’ his name is Captain Rogers, he’s a US Soldier, and yes Mr Stark did rent out the ICU as it was a matter of emergency and did not have enough time to transport him to another facility.” Bethany stated curtly, secretly enjoying the looks of shame flooding the faces of the other doctors “Anyway, he’s not our case to worry about anymore, as soon as he stabilized I had to hand him over to Mr Stark’s physician.” 

“Well said Dr Alexander” said a commanding voice from around the corner of the locker room. There materialized Dr O’Reilly, clip-board in hand and his usual look of stern determination etched onto his chiselled face. The other doctors stood up straighter, as if he was still a Commanding Officer, silently looking on for their orders, “It’s completely understandable that the staff are all a bit…excited from the drama that unfolded on last night’s shift, it was a long and hard one for everyone involved”, giving Beth an approving nod, “But that was last night. As Dr Alexander said, Captain Rogers is no longer a patient of NYP and is therefore none of our concern. It is true that Mr Stark and Miss Potts have rented the ICU temporarily until the patient recovers and is well enough to be transferred, and I ask you to please keep a tight reign of your curiosity – the ICU is off limits to our staff unless they have authorised access. Right, that’s enough of that – rounds everybody”. 

With that, Dr O’Reilly turned quick on his heels, leaving the pack of eager residents trailing behind the more experienced doctor, weaving in and out of hospital rooms, talking to patients, checking vitals, going over diagnoses and up-coming procedures. The morning turned out to be nothing out of the ordinary, other than the usual chaos of charts and check-ups. Half way through her round, Beth walked into room 697 – Walter Green’s room. Mr Green was a hospital regular; an ex-athlete who had so many joint replacements she was sure his bones was almost entirely made of ceramics. He had a thin, smiling face with tufts of dark grey hair he was too stubborn to remove. He was bony and angular; the typical physic of a long-distance runner and his knobbly knees would show under the thin white hospital blankets. 

“Walter, Walter, Walter…what did I tell you about watching out for those pesky sidewalk curbs?” Beth said walking into the room and picking up the chart clipped to the end of the bed. 

“Well Betty, I heard you all three times, but you see, they creep up on me!” joked the older man. Looking at his chart, Beth could see that the arthritis in his ankles was spreading, and soon he would find it hard to walk, let alone run without letting up a little on the exercise. Walter was one of Beth’s first ever patients she treated in The Pit, he’d been brought in for tripping up in a marathon because he couldn’t judge where the pavement ended and the road began; he needed glasses but was too stubborn to admit it, so he fell and dislocated his hip, which later on turned out to be so arthritic it had to be replaced, she had no idea how the old guy was still running races at the age of 72.   
“Yeah, yeah Walt, looks like those pins are holding nicely, I’ll tell you what, my college was raving about you this morning, 9 pins, one bus and a car! Walt, if you don’t need to go to those lengths just to see me, just give a girl a call!” she joked whilst changing some of his dressings, manoeuvring around his elevated leg. 

“Ha! Oh darlin’ I was hardly hit by a bus, it was more of a graze! I wasn’t paying attention crossing the road and stepped out a little early, got knocked by the wing mirror…then hit by the car. AH, it’s just a shame I’m gonna have to miss that race next weekend, all the old boys were gonna be there!” 

“Still Walt, that was pretty hardcore! You really do need to be more careful though, you could have been killed!” Beth chided, finishing up his examination, “look, you’re going to have to lighten up on the long distance running now Walter, it’s wreaking havoc with your ankles. I’m going to get Dr Sandman in here from Orthopedics to come and talk to you about some possible options you have, but it’s essentially all up to you. I’ll be back to check up on you before my shift ends alright?” She said worryingly to the old patient. He looked back at her with his usual winning smile, and her heart sunk a little for him. She could see it in his eyes he was disappointed, it’s the same look you see in a surgeon when they can’t operate anymore, a sheer disbelief and determination coupled with absolute regret. She really felt for him, he’d been a champion in his day, but now he had to slow it down, she couldn’t even imagine what slow felt like anymore. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know sweetheart, just tough to give it all in y’know?” He replied with a sigh. 

“Not yet Walt, but sometimes I wish I did, now promise me you’ll be nice to Dr Sandman and you will take his offers into consideration?” Beth asked despondently. 

“Alright, now go, on there’s probably some godforsaken person who needs your help, leave this tiresome old oaf alone will you!” He laughed, waving her off as she turned through the doorway and out into the bustling hallways. 

For some reason, Beth could not stop thinking about Captain Rogers’ case – and apparently nobody else could either. The cafeteria was buzzing as she collected her lunch and sat down at her usual table with a few select residents, the ones she could actually stand and call her friends. 

“…and apparently he’s ordering from the Ritz!” Harold exclaimed, holding both of his hands up for extra effect, showing an apple in one hand and a pot of pudding in the other.   
“Who’s ordering from the Ritz, because I totally want in on that?” asked Beth, sitting down opposite Jason, who was furiously texting and offered her a sly wink as she opened up her sandwich. 

“Tony Stark” offered Andrea, which came out as an only just discernable muffle, her mouth full of pasta salad, “and I heard from one of the night nurses that he switched out the sheets for Egyptian Cotton too!” 

“Oh, come on! Really? You really believe that? The guy’s just making sure his friend is well looked after” Beth askes the table, looking around at them individually. 

“You don’t?” asked Harold, “It’s Tony, Freaking, Stark, the dude could probably just buy the whole goddamn hospital if he wanted to!” 

“I hope I get to keep my job if he does” chirped in Jason, peering from behind the screen of his phone, “because my pay rise would certainly take a bump for the better!”

That earned a laugh from everyone, who continued to discuss their mysterious guest as she quickly ate the rest of her lunch. She had a whole host of labs to run as well as some post-op patients to check up on, plus she was in the surgery later on running immunisations, she had a lot of paper work to fill out in-between. She was just about to bid everyone goodbye before heading up to the lab until an ominous shadow cast over the table. Looking up, Beth saw a large, muscular, bald man in a black suit standing right in front of them. Beneath the suit jacket he had on a crisp white shirt and black silk tie, and a curly wire ear piece that circled around his earlobes. He looked threatening to say the least. 

“Dr Alexander?” asked the man, expressionless. 

“Um…yes” Beth replied, worried that her answer sounded like she wasn’t sure of he own name. 

“I’m going to need you to come with me please.” The man said matter-of-factly. 

At this point the other members of staff were starting to stare, and Jason was nudging her leg under the table. She gave him a reproachful look, he replied with a not-so-subtle nod in the suited man’s direction. Standing up, she noticed she only came to the man’s shoulder, all of a sudden very aware of her own petite frame. She was given a few worrisome looks of her friends and co-workers, and a shot of envy from Keefer for some reason before the man placed a guiding hand on her shoulder, leading her out of the cafeteria and to the elevators at the end of the adjacent hallway. 

Once inside, Beth started: 

“Look, I really don’t have time for this, I have a dozen labs to run, patients to see, I have to run the immunisation driver later on today I—“ 

“It’s all been taken care of Dr Alexander, please, this way” the bald man interrupted, once again pushing her in the right direction. That particular direction she was realising was towards the ICU. 

“Has something happened to Captain Rogers? I know I was his primary care giver last night, however I didn’t have the authority, you really should speak to –“   
“Captain Rogers is stable, just as you left him last night. Nothing has changed.” He ended, nodding his head to another suited agent at the entrance to the ICU who opened the door for them. 

The lights of the hallway were almost all switched off, and more darkly clad men and women lined the hallway in formation, each armed. The sight startled Beth, as she was only used to seeing the friendly security guards armed with Tasers, which they rarely ever used. There were three people standing at the end of the hallway, starkly silhouetted from the warm light coming out of Captain Rogers’ hospital room. It was two men and a woman, one was a tall, heavily built black man with a long leather coat, the other another agent type and the woman was wearing some sort of close-fitting body suit, nothing like Beth had seen before.   
Upon her arrival the three abruptly stopped talking and turned towards her, the smaller, agent-type had a warm smile on his face, which somehow assured her in front of the other two, who looked decidedly more intimidating. 

“Ah, Dr Alexander, we were just talking about your fine work on our man last night, hell of a job you did.” said the tall, black man. On closer inspection he had an eye patch covering one eye, with three jagged scars running parallel to one another. It was off-putting and menacing; he looked like a stereotypical villain from a cartoon.

“Umm…thank you sir, I was just doing my job” Beth replied, trying to look to long at the leather patch. 

“And a fine job you did. Looks like you’ll have to be using them again Dr, that is, if you’re willing.” The man said, turning his head so that his good eye could look down on her.   
“But I thought he said...” turning back to the man who brought her, remembering he said all was fine with Captain Rogers and seeing he was gone, “…he was right there, he – he said that the patient -Captain Rogers was stable?” 

“Oh, he is Dr Alexander, but you see we’ve been having some…difficulties with the Captains current physician” The man said, a look of great annoyance crossing his face.   
“Difficulties sir?” pried Beth, her curiosity rising. 

“Basically the other’s don’t like him” The woman chimed in, “they said that he, ‘treated Captain Rogers like a…what was it?”

“A specimen in a petri dish I believe it was” replied the shorter, suited man. He turned back smiling at Beth. 

“And this has what to do with me?” Beth asked, feeling very out of place with these people. 

“Well, when asked who they would like to replace Dr Beckford as the Captain’s primary doctor, Mr Stark mentioned yourself, and the others seemed to agree, really the first time that’s happened in a while” answered the man with the eye patch. 

“Me? Tony Stark asked for me – personally? Why not Dr O’Reilly, he’s head of Trauma! And who are these ‘others’ you keep referring to? Captain Rogers’ friends form last night?” asked Beth, still extremely confused. 

“Well, we can’t tell you that right away until you agree to work with us, but yes, Mr Stark did personally ask after you, and not any other doctor to care for Captain Rogers” stated the woman, her hands resting on her hips, painfully close to two pistols holstered around her hips. 

Beth looked at the three of them, they stared at her desperately, as if she was their last resort, their only hope. These strong, tough looking people were staring at her as if she had all the answers. She then looked past them, to the brightness of the yellow light pouring out of the ward room where she could hear the resounding ‘beep’ of Captain Rogers’ heart monitor, knowing that it was her that allowed that noise to continue. His case did baffle her, and she felt connected to it, if only because she did bring him back three times. But then she remembered Walter, who she promised to see before her shift ended, the labs that she was supposed to do and were probably handed off to some random intern, the guilt of having gotten out of her work, even if it was the boring stuff. 

“Look, I’m flattered, really, but I have patients down stairs that have been with me since the beginning, I have a job to do that started long before Mr Stark and you gang of merry men stepped in here, freaking everyone out, and I will be here long after you’ve all left. I’m happy to consult on the case, if and only if you can allocate a part of my shift off fairly to the other residents, I can’t be here all the time, I work in the ER – patients will come in who are far more important and high risk then Captain Rogers here.” Beth ranted in a rare moment of courage. 

When she was finished, the three of them looked on, impressed. After a beat the leather clad man said: 

“You drive a hard bargain, but I think that can be arranged. I don’t know about “far more important and high risk patients” Dr Alexander, but to answer your questions I guess I better start with who we are. My name is Director Fury of the Strategic Homeland Investigative Enforcement and Logistics Decision, otherwise known and S.H.I.E.L.D , this here is Agent Maria Hill and Agent Phil Coulson, and we’re here to tell you about the Avengers Initiative”. 

‘What the hell?’ was Beth’s last thought before she was plunged into the deep and murky world of superheroes, secret clandestine government agencies and super soldiers.


	8. Chapter 8:

Tony’s POV:

8 Hours Earlier...

A dull, muted light shifted through the semi-drawn blinds of the room casting long, grey shadows across the still unconscious form of Captain Steven Rogers. He was still, too still, Tony knew the guy was stoic, but it ached to see him like this – hooked up to machines with wires coming out at every angle, it just didn’t seem right. It wasn’t until now, in the pale light of morning that he could see how old Steve really was. His normally healthy complexion was sickly, he had dark purple rings under his eyes, his skin was bruised and torn - it was as if all his years’ worth of violence had finally caught up with him. 

Beside him, Pepper stirred. Despite multiple efforts to convince her to go back to the Tower, she would just squeeze his hand and close her eyes again, knowing that Tony would probably go out of his mind without her there. Scanning the room, the story was the same, the sleeping figures of his teammates slouched in uncomfortable positions, heads lulling, brows furrowed, all feeling for their fallen member. Nobody wanted to leave, Bruce and Coulson were sat on either side of Steve’s hospital bed, Phil was adamant that he was present the first time The Captain was put to sleep and he was certainly going to be there a second time, whilst the good Doctor Banner must have fallen asleep reading Steve’s chart as they dangled precariously from his fingertips. Even Jane and Darcy stayed, using Thor as a God-like pillow. The only two not present were Clint and Natasha who were ominously called away by Fury – something about an “0-8-4” whatever that meant. They just shared a knowing glance at each other, touched Steve on the shoulder for a goodbye and silently slipped away into the darkness. 

Rubbing his eyes, Tony heaved himself up, feeling the need to stretch his legs a little from being sat down all night in an uncomfortable plastic hospital chair. He wandered to the window and looked out between the hanging vertical blinds. There was already movement outside, people in white coats and light coloured scrubs dotted around, pushing patients around in wheel chairs, standing with them whilst they smoked, keeping an eye on their IV’s. Nurses drinking coffee before their shift, chatting and smiling at each other, paramedics sat on the back of their rigs, waiting for a call to come in. For a moment it almost seemed like they were back in the tower – the near constant buzz of activity, the secure feeling that there was always someone around, always something to be done. But then Tony looked down at his watch, reading the time as just past 6:30 and noticed the blood that stained his once starched white shirt, Steve’s blood. He was covered in it; it saturated the suit that Pepper so painstakingly picked out for him, had measured and cut specifically for him. It made him sick to his stomach. He hated hospitals anyway, he always had. He hated it before the Afghanistan incident and afterwards. He hoped that having the core removed from his heart would mean he wouldn’t have to come back to one for a while – how wrong he was. 

He turned back towards the room, back resting on the window sill, the faint sun rays filtering through the blinds warm on his back. He looked at his team, which was more of a family now. Everyone was feeling this, everyone was hurting he could see it on their faces – drawn and furrowed in sleep as if everyone was having the same nightmare – which they were he supposed. He looked at these people, the people he worked and lived with under the most testing and dangerous of circumstances and knew that they had all been through their own individual hells. They had all lost something, all experienced pain and suffering, and they had all come back from it – but Steve, he was the glue that held all of them together – he kept them in the good fight, he was the voice of reason. Looking back to the figure in the hospital bed, the man he barely recognised as Captain America, he wasn’t sure if his team could take another blow, another loss as great as this one. 

***  
Eventually people started making their way back to the tower in shifts to change, shower and get something to eat, but made sure there was always someone left with Steve, just in case. 

It was Tony, Darcy and Bruce who were left in Steve’s room when a smartly dressed doctor came into the room flanked by Director Fury and Maria Hill. Fury and Hill directed their gazes directly at Steve as they walked through the door, something akin to anger permeated the features of Fury’s face, Hill however kept her usual stonewall demeanour, for a fleeting second there was a softening around her eyes, a glimpse of sadness before her guard rose again. It never failed to amaze Tony how the agents were able to compartmentalise their emotions like that, especially Romanoff. The doctor however, paid no attention to their fallen friend and comrade, just the medical equipment behind him – he was tutting and sighing rather loudly, turning towards Steve’s IV and flicking it, watching the clear liquid drip down into the tube tethered to his arm, a look of severe disapproval on his face. 

Fury, observing with his usual disapproving stare, took this as the time to introduce the new physician to the remaining team:

“Stark, Banner, Ms. Lewis, this here is Dr Beckford, he’s one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s leading medical experts, we flew him here especially to see to it that Captain Rogers gets the best care possible…isn’t that right Doctor?” He stated with force to the younger man, who at this point was holding Steve’s chart and shaking his head in dismay. 

“…what? Oh yes, best…possible care…I mean this is ludicrous, the drugs being used here, I mean, they’re hardly fit for a subject as classified as this…just shoddy work, and the equipment, don’t even get me started – you said my lab equipment would be here by now Director, how on earth do you expect me to provide first class care without the proper equipment!” The doctor exclaimed waving his hand in a nonchalant manner at the hospital equipment that was currently keeping Steve alive. 

“Of course Dr Beckford, as I have told you before, all your equipment is being shipped over as we speak, and specialist lab assistants too” Chided Fury, his patience obviously wearing thin, he glanced over to Agent Hill, who only rolled her eyes.   
“ Specialist – I specifically said I wanted Dr Jemma Simmons – she was the top of my class at The Academy, I still don’t know why you wouldn’t bring her in on a case such as this, it’s preposterous really, I need qualified people Director Fury, qualified, not a bunch of mid-level lab monkeys or dare I even say it ordinary doctors, this is not an ordinary patient—“   
“Yeah, um, about the patient, is there any chance you could, oh I don’t know, look at him. That’s what you’re here for right – to help him? Rather than complain about your precious equipment or your staff, because the last time I checked the equipment he already has is doing a pretty good job of keeping him, well, not dead and those ordinary doctors you were talking about saved his life, and I didn’t see you working all night to make sure he was okay” Interjected Darcy, her glasses askew and hair wild from awkwardly sleeping on Thor’s godly bicep. 

“Miss Lewis does have a point Dr Beckford, this is a time sensitive issue, the sooner we know what’s causing the delay in Captain Rogers’ healing the faster we can wake him up, you’ll have to make do with the equipment the hospital have for now, your things will be here soon. And with regards to Dr Simmons, she’s on a classified mission with the rest Coulson’s mobile team, if we could have pulled her away we would have” answered Agent Hill democratically, her eyebrow slightly raised as a sign on solidarity to Darcy for standing up to the pompous doctor. 

“Right, yes of course” he replied, stunned and obviously intimidated. With that he got around to reviewing Steve’s stats, he peeled away the bandages and inspected his wounds, checked his eyes with a small torch and his breathing and heartbeat with a stethoscope. He busied around, occasionally making some odd noise or another which put the whole room on edge. He was obviously stalling, Tony knew, Bruce had checked all of this only a few hours before, even though he wasn’t a licenced physician he still knew his way around an injured man, Tony was pretty sure both Natasha and Clint could do this in their sleep the amount of emergency first aid they’d performed on each other and the team.   
After a good ten minutes had passed, Dr Beckford slung his stethoscope around his neck, holding on to both ends and sighed before saying: 

“Well, it’s obvious the patient underwent a severe amount of trauma both internally and externally, he has receptive pupils which are a good sign, but with further testing we’ll know more”. 

“Seriously…that’s it – all that oo-ing and ahh-ing and that’s all you give us?” Shouted Tony, he wasn’t expecting this guy to come in and provide some kind of medical cure, surely he could give something more, “we already know this, the doctor who was here earlier already told us the same thing!” 

“I’m sorry Mr Stark, but without specialist agency equipment I can’t say for sure what’s going on inside the patient’s body, I’m sure the previous doctor was capable of looking after him, but these things take time, especially in this instance – we don’t even fully understand the qualities of the serum that caused his transformation, let alone the kind of side effects it would have in reaction to the kind of trauma sustained on your mission”. 

With that, Dr Beckford, Fury and Hill exited the room, leaving the remaining three in a suspended state of anger and disbelief. The only sound in the room was the resounding bleep of Steve’s heart monitor and the residual splintering of the arm of Bruce’s hospital chair, who at this point was on the verge of losing control to the monster inside of him, who too mourned for his friend. 

***   
7 hours later: 

The only time in which none of the team was present in Steve’s room was an awkward cross-over shift in which Pepper, Jane and Thor were coming out of the hospital to get something to eat and Tony, Darcy and Bruce were going in. They all bumped into each other in the hallway, and decided on staying together again that night, that they could survive another night of bad cafeteria food in order to stay with their Captain. 

Everyone was exhausted, nobody managed to get some sleep and even Thor couldn’t manage a decent meal. Darcy handed Jane an extra-large coffee from the diner down the street. Tony reached for Pepper’s hand, who on top of worrying for her traumatised fiancé and her wounded friend, had to deal with phone meeting for Stark Industries all day. Thor clapped Brice on the shoulder, who gave him a small smile, which at this point was about the only thing he could muster – caffeine wasn’t an option for him as it was for the others – he couldn’t risk elevating his heart rate too much, even with all his self-control, this was a particularly delicate time and he couldn’t risk hulking out in such a crowded place, especially as Steve was usually the one to help calm him down. 

Turning the corner and entering the now private ICU ward, the group passed the black clad S.H.I.E.L.D agents lining the walls like machine gun toting knights in armour. Before Tony and Darcy would have laughed at them, made faces, told jokes and taken pictures with them as if they were the famous guards at Buckingham Palace, today however, they just looked for the dim light at the end of the hallway and at the flurry of white clad doctors and scientists set up outside of Steve’s room. They moved in shortly after the Doctor arrived, bringing with them crates of fancy equipment none of them had ever seen, and some they had, busying around like worker bees in a hive, testing samples, recording stats and typing in data, for a split second it was as if Bruce and Jane and Darcy were back in their prospective labs. 

However, this was all short lived when they come to the doorway, only to find it blocked by three, very large agents. 

“Excuse me we’re here to see Steve” said Pepper politely, peering over their crossed arms into the hospital room. 

“Sorry Ma’am, we’ve been told not to let anyone in, doctor’s orders” said one of them. 

“We were only gone for a minute, we’ve been here all day!” exclaimed Pepper, stepping directly in front of another, staring him in the face. 

“That’s exactly the point Ma’am, Dr Beckford says you’re getting in the way of the healing process” The agent replied. 

“Hey buddy, see this guy here – that’s Thor, so if you don’t move out of our way, he’s going to Mew-Mew your ass” added Darcy, pointing at the large, blonde Asguardian next to her. 

“It’s Mjolnir” he interjected. 

“Whatever, same difference” she retorted. 

With a sigh the men parted, letting them through. The room was almost barely recognisable from what it was before. The whole room was covered in new tech sent from HQ, even Steve’s bed had been replaced with a newer, sleeker model. Around him were five doctors or scientists, who were examining something under a microscope that was being transmitted to a computer screen. They were huddled around it, pointing at the screen excitedly, whispering to each other. 

The room suddenly seemed very small with all of them in it – nobody looked up as they entered even though they were facing them, their backs to Steve. It made Tony wonder how long had they ignored him, staring at their screens and spreadsheets? He was right there and they weren’t treating him – they were treating a result, a number a fact, not Steve, not Captain America. 

“So, have you figured it out yet – why hasn’t he woken up?” asked Tony brazenly. 

“Ah, Mr Stark and…everybody, yes we have indeed isolated the reason to why the patient is recovering so slowly – it seems that Mr. Blonskey was trying to replicate the super-soldier serum for himself again and during the explosion it managed to work its way into his system, causing a temporary lapse in the original serum – it’s quite fascinating really” piped up Dr Beckford, his wide eyes like that of some mad scientist. 

“If the Captain’s condition is only temporary, then why hasn’t he awoken?” asked Thor, looking over towards Steve. 

“Well…that is where we’ve hit a bit of a dead end, the reaction has seemed to halt his healing process to that of a regular person, without the original serum, made to the exact specifications that Dr Erskin had over 70 years ago, there is no way to kick start his healing. I’m afraid this is all we can do for the patient, however the data attained from the serum will prove a very interesting study.” Replied the doctor, his eyes reverting back to the screen. 

“Can’t you recreate it – the serum – with all this equipment surely you could do something, you can’t just abandon him!” Said Tony – eyes blazing.   
“Tony, if something were to go wrong, if they were to make the serum wrong it could have horrible ramifications, Steve could end up like me – like Blonskey” interjected Bruce.   
“So what – we just have to wait, you’re not going to do anything for him?” pleaded Tony. 

“There really is nothing else to be done but keep him under surveillance and hope that he wakes up soon. The half life of Blonskey’s serum is half that of Erskin’s eventually that will take over and he’ll heal – it’s just a matter of when. Like I said we have data, if anything he’s worth sticking around for as a subject – the super soldier serum in invaluable”.   
This apparently was not the answer Tony was looking for. In a mixture of grief, tiredness and anger he lunged for the doctor, grabbing him by the collar of his white jacket and pulling him over to Steve’s hospital bed. 

“This is Steve. Steven Rogers. Not ‘patient’, not ‘subject’ – Steve. He’s a person, he’s our friend and he’s god-damn Captain America and you will treat him with the respect he deserves and not like a specimen in one of your petri dishes!”

Suddenly it was very quiet in the room aside from the hum of the equipment, and all parties turned towards the door to see Director Fury, a scowl on his face and his good eye blazing. He pointed at Tony shouting:

“You – get your god-damn hands of the Doctor and step away from the Captain, and you,” pointing towards Dr Beckford “get your ass out of this hospital and back to the Icebox, we’re done here.” 

With that, Tony let go of the doctor, who quickly shuffled out of the room, along with a line of his lab assistants, and the team were once again alone with Steve.   
Out in the hallway, several agents was dealing with a pick up for Dr Beckford and his team, helping to pack up their equipment whilst Agent Maria Hill and Director Fury stood close together in the dim hallway light of the ICU trying to think of a back-up plan – who could they trust to save the life of Captain America?


	9. Chapter 9:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the next chapter begins, I’d just like to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has responded to this story. It really means a lot that people have taken time out of their day to tell me how much they enjoyed reading my fic and that they look forward to future chapters! I know it’s been a while since we’ve heard from Steve, but I promise its coming! Thanks again, enjoy and please feel free to message me with any requests, comments or suggestions! Em x

Beth’s POV: 

Twenty-four hours. She’d been given twenty-four hours to decide whether or not to take the case. Her coffee table was strewn with pages upon pages of files and photographs pertaining to Captain Rogers; medical records, photographs, incident reports, evaluations, back-ground checks – basically his whole life in three manila envelopes. Director Fury had given them to her in the hopes they would persuade her to come aboard. Director Fury – a one eyed, leather-clad leader of a secret sect of superspies. 

‘Gees, try saying that five times in a row’ Beth thought, picking up an old faded black-and-white photo of Captain Rogers. He was scrawny, pale and wearing an army uniform that was far too big for him. She turned the photo over in her hands – ‘Circa. 1942’. 

1942\. Steve Rogers aka ‘Captain America’ aka one of the most legendary and patriotic figures in American history. She was supposed to treat the American Hero – a man who is essentially beyond the reaches of modern medicine, a man who by all accounts shouldn’t medically, logically exist. And she was supposed to heal him. 

She knew he was important, obviously they wouldn’t shut down the ICU for just anybody – but she thought that it was just a matter of Tony Stark’s extravagance, not because they were hosting The Avengers. The Avengers, what was it the news kept on calling them? ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’. When she saw them they didn’t seem so mighty – they seemed tired and sad and a bit…broken. 

Beth reasoned that the agents she spoke to must have seen some pretty horrible things, gone through wars, seen people die horrible, violent deaths; hell the other agent, Hill even mentioned the alien invasion the previous year. All that and it took one man; Steven Rogers, Captain America to bring them down to the level of desperation to ask her for help, all because she’d been nice to them. That was her job. She was just doing her job. 

Beth thought about her other patients, about Walter. Was it fair what she was doing, was it right? To opt out of treating multiple other patients over one man?   
She could hear Director Fury’s voice in her dead again – “I don’t know about far more important and high risk patients”. 

Looking down at the evidence in front of her, the decades of service that the Captain had put in for the country, so people like her could have the freedom to live their lives without being in constant fear, how much he risked and sacrificed…She made her decision. 

Beth carefully placed the files back into their envelopes, taking extra time slotting the old photographs back behind their prospective paperclips, picked up her cell phone and dialled the number on the card she had been given. 

“Hello yes, Director Fury…I’m in. I want to help Captain Rogers any way I can…Yes Sir. Thank-you”

With that, the young doctor went to bed exhausted and anxious about the coming days and how they would probably prove to be the most interesting of her entire medical career so far.   
***

Beth spent most of the morning filling out paper work – mountains and mountains of paperwork. She had a lot to do anyway but this was just ridiculous and she spent extra time doing it because it was all non-disclosure and she was pretty sure if she broke even one of her contractual obligations she would find herself in some very deep, dark whole somewhere. She also had to undergo a blood test, have her DNA, retina and fingerprints scanned into the S.H.I.E.L.D data base and get issued her key-card and ID-badge.   
By the time that this was all completed it was a little after 11:00 am, she could hear the rest of the hospital outside the abandoned ICU ward going about its daily routine and wondered how her fellow residents were doing with their rounds so far that morning. She had to admit, the idea of not changing hundreds of catheters and infected bandages was a nice change from her normal rounds, and at least she got a break from ‘Creepy Pete’ – the resident, elderly fellow on the Cardiac Wing who always tried to grab her ass whenever she checked his vitals. 

However, she felt her stomach sink a little when she and the unnamed agent walked closer towards Captain Roger’s room, the added intimidation of the armed men and women lining the darkened hallway. 

She stopped just outside the doorway, quickly gathering herself before entering the room. She could hear the usual sounds of machinery and the quiet, muted chatter of worried visitors. Drawing a breath, she finally turned into the room, putting on a brave face to the group of people slouched in the hospital chairs – The Avengers, who at this moment were all staring at her, waiting to say something. 

‘Stay cool Beth, you can do this’ she reminded herself ‘just treat it like any patients family’. 

“Um…Hi. I’m Dr Bethany Alexander – I don’t know if you all remember but we’ve met before I was…”

“- you were the doctor who saved Steve’s life”, said Tony. He quickly got up from the chair next to Captain Rogers’ bed and extended his hand, “I’m Tony, and these are…well, these are the, uh, Avengers”. He waved his arm around the room and each prospective member made some kind of greeting gesture to the doctor. 

“I know who you guys are, I was briefed by Director Fury last night and Captain Rogers’ case of course. I was given his files to consult. I can’t say I’m an expert in this particular field but I assure you I will do everything in my power to help your friend, it’s my honour and duty” Beth said purposefully. 

“Gees, you sound just like him” said Darcy, which earned a few small chuckles out of the group. 

“Right, well then – I guess we should get started. I’ve been going over Dr Beckford’s files and test results, Captain Rogers seems stable for now, but I’ll run some more tests and draw some blood for analysis so we can check his white cell count and oxygen – this will give us some determination of any improvement to his condition. Also I’ve been made available to some newly improved pain medication that will help keep him stable for longer – there really isn’t any way we can how much pain he’s in so I want to make sure he’s as comfortable as possible while he recovers. Additionally I’ve prescribed some physio do be done by the Agency’s nurses to keep the Captain’s muscles in peak condition, muscular atrophy is very common in these kinds of cases and for a man who depends on his strength and fitness so heavily, I think it’s important for him to keep as much of it as possible” Beth stated, looking up at the group of people in front of her. They were very quiet until all of a sudden, Pepper Pots started crying. 

‘Oh god, what did I say? Was I that bad?

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s b-been a very long couple of days and we really didn’t think anyone could h-help him, and then you-you…” Pepper started before collapsing in a puddle of tears on Tony’s shoulder. 

“What she means is, thanks Doc” Darcy continued, offering her a small smile. 

Feeling quite overwhelmed, Beth returned the smile and turned away from the gaze of some obviously very tired, thankful and emotional superheroes and concentrated on the patient at hand. 

“Well Captain Rogers, how are we feeling today?” She asked as she took Steve’s temperature with a device, slotting it into his earlobe with one hand and feeling his forehead with the other. 

The group were looking on anxiously, she decided to walk them through the entire process – they’d been kept out of the loop long enough. 

“He’s a little feverish, which is quite normal, it just means his body is fighting off the trauma and any possible infection. I’m going to place him on a stronger dose of anti-biotic, when we first administered it I did so under the impression he was an average patient, however he seems to burn through almost double the amount of drugs as a regular person”. 

She lifted the blanket from around his abdomen and carefully untacked the medical tape holding the bandages. The assisting nurse came around with a tray so Beth could discard the old bandages and replace them with new, fresh ones. Steve’s skin was torn and raw and still very tender from surgery. His surgical scars were bruised a deep shade of crimson, bruises were emerging all over his body. She disinfected the area, soaking parts in iodine before taping on the new bandages. 

“How is he – is he healing yet?” asked Bruce, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and then crossing his arms. 

“Not yet, it still looks very raw from surgery. As long as we keep this area clean and wrapped it should start to heal on its own. I’ll make sure these are properly treated and cleaned”. 

“What about his head injury” piped Jane

“His CT’s came back relatively clear, a little swelling in his skull, however that’s to be expected with an injury such as Captain Rogers, as Dr Beckford said, his pupils were responsive, his scans are clear – unfortunately it’s just a waiting game. Recent studies have shown that there are varying degrees of consciousness in these kinds of cases. It suggests talking to the patient, playing his favourite kinds of music, reading to them etc. I could help.” Replied Beth, who finished with her examination, was going to fill in some paper work before getting some time in with other patients while Captain Roger’s tests were being run. 

“That’s great Dr Alexander, really great” said Pepper, who had obviously calmed down after her little outburst earlier. 

“Yeah, thanks Doc, thanks for taking care of him” agreed Darcy. 

“It’s no problem, really. Now if there’s nothing else I’m, going to fill in some paperwork and check in on some of my other post-op patients downstairs, I’ll check in later to see how Captain Rogers responds to the new medication.” 

“Oh actually, there is one more thing” Tony added before Beth could walk out the door, “It’s Steve, just Steve. He doesn’t really like the whole title thing”. 

She smiled, seeing the fierce look of protection and friendship in his eyes. 

“Well, I’ll be back to check on Steve later. Make sure you all look after yourselves" 

With that, Dr Bethany Alexander turned down the dim lit hallway, ignoring the darkly dressed men and women flanking her, instead feeling much lighter than she did before – she was helping save the life of Captain America, or as his friends liked to call him…just Steve.


	10. Chapter 10:

Steve’s POV: 

It had been two days since he was admitted to the hospital and Steve was still trying to find his bearings, every now and again wondering out of his room and exploring the hospital. Steve hated hospitals, always had – when he was a kid he was always sick, always going to the doctor form some reason or another, whether it was his asthma playing up again, or a broken rib from a random beating, he could just never get used to them. After the serum he barely ever had to see a doctor, at least not for medical purposes, even the medical team at S.H.I.E.L.D had given up trying to treat him. After they would get back from a mission it was mandatory to visit the infirmary, it was kind of a contest to see who could pull off the most pain without showing it – Natasha always won, Tony always lost. 

‘Big cry baby’ Steve thought, chuckling to himself. 

He was walking down a hallway in the Paediatric Unit, the only place that didn’t seem to be depressing in the hospital. The walls were lined with drawings and thank-you notes from the patients, there were big open play rooms filled with smiling, laughing children. He stopped in on one of them, leaning against the doorway and spotted two little girls acting out a fight between Iron Man and the Hulk – making all sorts of crashing and flying noises, laughing loudly with each other. Because of the classified missions Steve, Natasha and Clint had been on, they wasn’t outed as much as the others, of course their alter egos still had their fame, much the same as Bruce, who was safely hidden behind the big green monster. But Thor and Tony were very much recognisable. He hated the publicity, he’d much rather just get on with things than just smile and wave for photographers at fancy dinners and parties, but this – the kids, he didn’t mind so much. 

He wondered back through the hallways towards the ICU, catching snippets of conversations; bits of gossip from the nurses’ station, a parent worriedly talking about their child’s surgery, doctors discussing charts – the hospital was constantly moving. He arrived at the double doors that opened into the ICU, facing him were two stone-faced agents – he vaguely recognised them from some mission or other. Steve held his breath as he glided through the glass doors and in between the agents – that was another thing he was still getting used to. He walked towards his room and stopped, hearing a commotion, he suddenly panicked. 

‘Oh my god – am I dying?...Again!’

He ran to the room and stopped short just as Dr Beckford was thrown out into the dim corridor by Director Fury, who then turned around and yelled something at the people inside. The doctor, obviously bristled, started: 

“I say Director Fury, the board will be hearing about this – I have already told you, there is nothing more I can do for Captain Roger’s at this time, but the information we could gain from studying his cells – the serum – it has infinite possibilities!” 

“Yeah, well those possibilities will have to wait for the Cap to wake up, so he can tell you how much of a stupid-ass decision that is himself” Retorted Fury.   
Steve failed to stifle a laugh before realising he didn’t have to, and watched as the doctor bossed around his technicians, packing up the ridiculous amount of lab equipment he’d bought with him. 

Agent Maria Hill walked towards Fury purposefully and crossed her arms. She had in one hand a small stack of files, some worn and tattered around the edges with watermarks on the envelopes. All of the files read ‘CLASSIFIED’ on the front of them. 

“Sir, the others have requested we bring Dr Alexander into the fold – they seem to trust her and at this point I don’t think we can handle much more tension around here – especially as far as Thor and Dr Banner are concerned” Said Hill, looking deploringly at her superior. 

Fury sighed, looked back towards Steve’s room before saying: 

“Fine. Bring in the other doctor. We’ll brief her and see what she thinks after that – we can’t force her to work on this – it’s not exactly the easiest request in the world – I need her vetted though, I need everything, I want to know what she eats for breakfast every morning before letting her in a room with Steve Rogers, got that Hill?” 

“Yes Sir” she responded, getting out her smart-phone she started typing away, whilst also grabbing the very large agent from the middle of the hallway to go with her. 

‘Dr Alexander’s going to be my doctor again – I never even got to see the other guy’ thought Steve, walking past Fury and into his room. 

In the few hours he’d been gone all of the equipment had been changed, the machines were sleeker, more advanced, there was a large monitor over his bed that had his vitals and stats displayed, as well as the steady beat of his heart monitor. He didn’t look any different, still pale and unanimated, apart from a slight hint of stubble on his cheeks.   
The others were still there, they looked furious. Tony was hunched over in a chair next to his bed, breathing heavily; Pepper was next to him, stroking his back, asking him to calm down. Darcy was ranting to Jane about how someone had been ‘disrespectful’, which Steve assumed was Dr Beckford. Thor looked about ready to punch something, Jane was animatedly talking to Banner who looked a little green around the gills and was obviously not listening to her, but instead going into one of his meditative mind-sets to stop himself from losing control. 

Steve couldn’t help but feel guilty for the pain he’d caused them. If only he’d said something earlier, if only he hadn’t been so stubborn and reliant upon the serum to heal him.

“This is bullshit” Darcy exclaimed, flopping back down in the chair next to Jane, “you ok Tony?” she then deplored, looking over at the older man, now reclined back, staring at the ceiling. 

“Uh, nope, not really Darce, but thanks. And Yeah, I agree total bullshit” He responded. 

After the Battle of Manhattan and after, whatever it was Thor, Darcy, Jane and Dr Selvig did to make a bunch of elves in London angry – they moved into the Tower with the rest of them. Jane and Selvig resumed their research and Darcy became Tony’s new PA, which was helpful because after the whole ‘Mandarin’ fiasco – he needed someone to help clear up the mess he’d made. It was an extra help that Darcy had a similar sense of humour to Tony, in truth they had a weird brother-sister relationship, in that they listened to very loud rock music and told inappropriate jokes to each other. 

“What’s bullshit?” Steve asked – and of course no one answered. He was getting tired of being invisible. 

“I can’t believe they would treat him that way” proclaimed Jane, “I mean, the guy’s Captain America for god’s sake, they should give him a little respect and treat the whole not the few, not just poke and prod at any part they find interesting – it’s simply not scientific”. 

“Aye, The Lady Jane speaks true. The Captain is a fearless warrior, and a loyal friend, he deserves more than this” Thor agreed, sadly looking at Steve’s motionless body.

“Hopefully they’ll call in someone better, Phil, you said your doctor was good. Maybe she could treat Steve?” Pepper asked. 

“Unfortunately not” Coulson signed, “I know that Steve deserves the best, but what my team are working on at the moment, it can’t be interrupted, it’s crucial. I’m really sorry guys; she’s on standby for as soon as she can get away”. 

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Bruce took to reading Steve’s chart, again, Darcy started playing a game on her phone, Jane and Thor started to drift off, Coulson and Pepper continued their conversation whilst Tony just sat and stared at Steve, not feeling the reassuring hand on his shoulder from the man himself – or at least part of him. 

***

Steve couldn’t take much more of the atmosphere in his room, it was too stifling, too depressing. The crazy, hair-brained bunch of people he knew and loved were quiet and sullen, and he knew it was partly…mostly his fault. 

‘At least the last time I was comatose there wasn’t anyone around to miss me, they all just thought I was gone’ Steve thought, a deep rooted sadness overwhelming him.   
He stepped out of his room and into the hallway, where he saw two figures emerging from the shadows down the hallway. One stopped a few meters behind the other, it was the large agent Hill has taken with her. As the other figure walked nearer, out of the dimness of the hallway and into the pool of light cascading from his room, Steve saw it was none other than Dr Alexander. 

‘She looks nervous’ he observed. 

Her hands were clasped in front of her and she was fiddling with the skin around her fingernails. She also nibbled at her bottom lip, eyes darting from Fury to Hill, and then to Coulson, who emerged out of Steve’s room behind them. 

“Ah, Dr Alexander, we were just talking about your fine work on our man last night, hell of a job you did” Stated Fury, his faux niceness trying mask the obvious annoyance in his voice. 

“Umm…thank you sir, I was just doing my job” the doctor replied, Steve let out a short chuckle as it was also painfully obvious Dr Alexander was considering the age old conundrum of ‘eye or patch’, a debate Tony argued, was the philosophical question of the new century. 

“And a fine job you did. Looks like you’ll have to be using them again Dr, that is, if you’re willing” Posed Fury, turning his head to look down at her with his god eye, another classic Director move. 

“But I thought he said...he was right there, he – he said that the patient -Captain Rogers was stable?” stammered Dr Alexander, turning around to see that the agent who escorted her had once again disappeared to the shadowy line up of other agents flanking the hallway. 

‘She was worried about me’ Steve thought, which for some reason gave him a warm feeling, but he then ultimately dismissed it. 

“Oh, he is Dr Alexander, but you see we’ve been having some…difficulties with the Captains current physician” replied Fury sullenly, sparing a quick glace towards the door to Steve’s room. 

“Difficulties sir?” asked the doctor, her curiosity obviously rising. 

“Basically the other’s don’t like him” Hill stated matter-of-factly, “they said that he, treated Captain Rogers like a…what was it?”

“A specimen in a petri dish I believe it was” replied Coulson, smiling slightly as if it was a fond memory. 

“And this has what to do with me?” the doctor asked, exasperated. 

“Well, when asked who they would like to replace Dr Beckford as the Captain’s primary doctor, Mr Stark mentioned yourself, and the others seemed to agree, really the first time that’s happened in a while” said Fury, waving in Dr Alexander’s direction to clarify his point. 

“Me? Tony Stark asked for me – personally? Why not Dr O’Reilly, he’s head of Trauma! And who are these ‘others’ you keep referring to? Captain Rogers’ friends form last night?” she asked, looking incredibly confused by the whole predicament. 

“Well, we can’t tell you that right away until you agree to work with us, but yes, Mr Stark did personally ask after you, and not any other doctor to care for Captain Rogers” replied Fury, looking deploringly at her with his one good eye. 

Steve too turned his gaze on the young doctor. She was shifting her gaze between the three, admittedly quite intimidating agents in front of her, realizing how strange this all must sound. To her she’s just been abducted from whatever it was she was doing and told that the world’s most famous billionaire had personally asked her to exclusively take care of a random soldier without any explanation. She looked past the three of them to the glow of Steve’s room and for a second, her face softened, the crease between her eyes faded before she said: 

“Look, I’m flattered, really, but I have patients down stairs that have been with me since the beginning, I have a job to do that started long before Mr Stark and your gang of merry men stepped in here, freaking everyone out, and I will be here long after you’ve all left. I’m happy to consult on the case, if and only if you can allocate a part of my shift off fairly to the other residents, I can’t be here all the time, I work in the ER – patients will come in who are far more important and high risk then Captain Rogers here.” 

Steve was impressed, it took a lot to stand up to Fury like that, and the guy was intimidating at the best of times, especially in the low-lit corridor of a hospital wing, with all the leather and guns. He cringed a little, looking over at the man who only looked impressed at the doctor’s outburst, Maria Hill had a small smirk on her face and Coulson too looked smug, as if he’d won some kind of bet. 

Fury waited a beat before answering, completely taking in all that the young doctor had just said: 

“You drive a hard bargain, but I think that can be arranged. I don’t know about “far more important and high risk patients” Dr Alexander, but to answer your questions I guess I better start with who we are. My name is Director Fury of the Strategic Homeland Investigative Enforcement and Logistics Decision, otherwise known and S.H.I.E.L.D , this here is Agent Maria Hill and Agent Phil Coulson, and we’re here to tell you about the Avengers Initiative”. 

Steve rolled his eyes, everyone said that Tony was the drama queen of the group but sometimes Fury took it to a whole new level. 

He looked over at Dr Alexander, who at this point looked completely confused and as if she was already regretting getting herself involved. Director Fury then guided her to the staff room that had been turned into a temporary command centre, waving his hand to clear the room whilst agents scattered past them to get out of their way. Coulson went over to the coffee machine and poured the doctor a cup, placing it on the table in front of her. Coulson sat in the armchair next to her, Fury and Hill opposite, the whole scenario looked like some very strange interview, which Steve supposed, it was. 

“Now what we’re about to share with you is highly classified information and it cannot, under any circumstances be made public do you understand Dr Alexander” asked Fury sternly. 

“Uh, yeah-no-I mean, of course, I would never dream about sharing a patients records with anyone, You have your code, we have ours” she replied, looking directly at Fury as if to assure her point. 

“Right, then I guess we should get started. Dr Alexander, I assume you’ve heard of Captain America?” asked Fury. 

“Ugh, yeah, why?” Asked Dr Alexander clearly more concerned and confused then she was before. 

‘This should be good’ thought Steve, sitting down next to an un-knowing Agent Hill. 

“Well Doc, that would be because the patient laying in the other room, Stephen Rogers and Captain America, are the same person” stated Director Fury. 

It took her a good few seconds for the words to sink in and then a kind of blank look washed over her face. She gazed to the doorway where the shadows of the vigil agents stood stark in the sacrificial glow of Steve’s hospital room and then back to Fury. 

“Captain America?....As in the Captain America, from the Second World War?” She asked, needing clarification. 

“The very same one” replied Fury curtly. 

“But…how?” is all she retorted. 

This gained another chuckle from Steve, he was beginning to like this doctor more and more. It reminded him of the conversation he had with Jane, as a scientist she just had a flurry of questions for him, wanting to know the mechanics of how it was he was still here. 

“That is all explained in these files” Hill said, placing a small stack of them in front of her, “go home, read them through, come to terms with what you’ve read and then decide if you want to come aboard. Call this number” Hill states, handing her a contact card, “we’re going to send an agent with you, just for precautions, those files are extremely sensitive but we understand that you’ll need to take your time with them”. 

“We’ve cleared it with your superior to take the rest of the day. Agent Connor will escort you home now” said Coulson clearly, signalling for the smartly dressed agent waiting the door way to come in. He already had her things at hand and picked up Steve’s files from the table, depositing them in a matte silver briefcase. 

“This way Dr Alexander” said the agent, offering for her to lead the way. 

“Oh, um, okay. I’ll, uh – I’ll give the files a read and call you back…I guess” said the doctor quickly as she was ushered out of the room. 

Steve felt bad for Dr Alexander, not only had she had her day interrupted, but had a whole load of information told to her in one, very short sitting. Fury and Hill were already discussing her background, looking at some files on a tablet. Coulson was walking out of the staff room and back to Steve’s room, probably to keep the others updated. He was torn. He wanted to know more about his potential new doctor and stay with Fury and Hill, but he also didn’t want to stray too far from the others and his body, he’d already left it for most of the day. However, what was pulling him the most was the doctor herself. She has his files, files he’d never actually read or seen. With that Steve made his decision – he’d tail Dr Alexander in the hopes of gaining a little reconnaissance on the good doctor whilst also seeing what S.H.I.E.L.D thought about him in secret.


End file.
